


Home For a Stray

by 3oclockrock



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 1 chapter has rape and mutilation I will tag for it, Dubious Consent, Hurt Jared Padalecki, Jared doesn't understand sex, Jared doesn't understand toilets, Jared gets raped in the first chapter, Jared has to wear a diaper, Jared hates pants, Jared is used to rape someone, Jared thinks he is a dog, Jensen accidentally molests Jared, Jensen and Misha are married, Jensen is an idiot, M/M, Misha and Jared have been abused, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puppy Play, Stockholm Syndrome, because he pees on everything, cop!Jensen, the mutilation happens to an OMC, therapist!Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3oclockrock/pseuds/3oclockrock
Summary: Kink Meme Prompt: Jared has lived his whole life as someone else's pet, it's the only thing he knows, so when he's left abandoned under a bridge without his collar, he doesn't know what to do with himself and just stays put. How else will his master know where to find him?When Jensen sees the naked guy just sitting out in the cold, he can't just leave him there.Author Summary: After behavioral therapist Misha gets special permission to bring Jared home to work with him 24/7, he and his cop husband Jensen have a long road to go to help the young man who thinks he's a dog.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this anonymously on the SPN Kink Meme. There's 1 chapter which involves Jared being made to rape someone. Jared does not understand rape or sex. I will tag for that chapter.
> 
> Warnings for chapter 1: Jared is raped by strangers. Sadie, a dog, licks him clean afterward.

Jared sat in his spot under the bridge, curled up on his tattered blanket. It was cold tonight. Not as cold as the night before, or the night before that, but the traffic rolling above him seemed louder somehow. He raised his head and howled out his sorrow, hoping his master would hear and come for him. Sadie slept next to him. Master had left her under the bridge too.

Jared hadn't understood why Master had removed their collars. _"I'm sorry, Jared. Missy says it has to be this way and after what happened, well, I guess she's right. I should have known better. I know you don't understand, but I want you to know none of this is your fault. It's all mine."_ He'd ruffled Jared's hair and given him a treat. When Jared turned back around after gobbling it off the dirt ground, Master was gone. Jared had scampered after him as far as the road, and then run alongside it, but when he didn't see Master's jeep, he had returned to his blanket to wait.

Others lived under the bridge. Real people, not pets like Jared. One of them showed Jared his thing and petted Jared's head and scratched behind his ears as he pushed it into Jared's mouth. Jared hadn't known what to do, so he'd held still while the man pushed in and out until he felt something sour and sharp on his tongue. _"Hey boys, this fella thinks he's a mutt!"_ The man threw him a cold slap of tough meat and Jared had gobbled it down. The other men gave him more after they put their things in his mouth, and one pushed him down on his stomach and put his thing in Jared's bottom. It had felt strange and Jared howled, but the man scratched under his chin and let Jared slobber on his fingers and then another man found a stick for him to chew on. After, they gave him a whole hot dog, instead of just pieces, but it was their praise that Jared soaked up the most. Sadie had nosed around some, but wasn't too interested. After Jared laid down, she came over and pushed her snout between his legs and licked in the places Jared couldn't reach. 

He missed his Master, but felt it less every day. He still didn't know what he'd done wrong. Master and he were only wrestling, Jared laying sloppy kisses with his tongue on Master's cheek and Master wrapping his arms around Jared's back as Jared rutted against Master's thigh. His thing always grew red and hard when he wrestled with Master. He tried not to show it, in case Master took him to the vet--Jared hated the vet. Master held him tight and rutted as well and then... Then Missy smacked Jared with a newspaper on his rump again and again and yelled at him to get off. Jared scrambled to a corner and curled up as small as he could while Missy and Master shouted at each other.

_"What are you doing? He's your nephew! Bad enough he thinks he's a dog!"_

_"Missy, wait! I can explain--"_

_"I can't deal with this! I've tried, you know I have. But this-- He goes or I go!"_

The next thing Jared knew, Master had loaded him and Sadie into the back of the car, along with their blankets and a toy each, and taken them to the bridge. _"I can't leave you here alone." Master stroked Sadie's head. "Take good care of him."_

Jared nestled closer to Sadie to get warm. He felt stiff and dirty, hadn't been able to get clean, but he had a full stomach and someone had made a fire. Jared knew better than to go close to it, since he'd ventured in once and almost burned his nose, but some of the heat reached him. He bayed into the darkness. ("Shut up, Mutt!") And ignored the shouting. His Master would come.

He had to.

##

Jensen pinched the inside of his elbow, trying to shock himself awake. Traffic duty sucked. It sucked all the more because Chad had gotten laid last night and, well, Jensen was gay for a reason. He didn't need to be hearing about vag in such gleeful detail.

The radio crackled to life, interrupting Chad. _"10-50 under Wilson Bridge. Anyone in the area can check it out?"_

Jensen snatched the his radio's handset up before Chad could stop him. Grinning at Chad, he pressed the button. "This is car 63. We're on our way."

_"Roger that."_

Chad slumped back in his seat. "Dude. We're off in fifteen minutes and you want to go see if some homeless guy has pissed on somebody?"

"That's 10-64. 10-50 is disorderly."

"With homeless people? Same damn thing." 

Wilson Bridge was a short jaunt down the highway, not far from where they currently sat hiding behind a roadside billboard. Jensen radioed in once they'd arrived and parked the car so the dashboard camera had a clear view of the bonfire and seven men around it. As he and Chad approached, one of the men, Fat Ears, came out to meet them.

"No trouble here tonight boys."

"Got a call," Chad said. "Just here to check it out." While Chad spoke, Jensen wandered toward the group. He knew most of them, except for a naked man curled up next to a dog. 

"He's new," he commented to Waddles. 

Waddles shrugged. "Turned up about three days ago. Thinks he's a dog. Say, you got any--?" Jensen dug a hard candy out of his pocket and handed it over. Leaving Waddles to it, he went and crouched in front of the naked guy. 

"Hey. You got a name?"

Naked guy stared at him. Even in the flickering firelight, Jensen could see that his brown eyes went on for miles. 

"We call him Mutt," Waddles said. "On account of he acts like one."

"That's no name," Jensen said, keeping his attention on Naked Guy. Sprawled out, he looked huge. Brick shithouse build, and Jensen was confused as fuck as to why he was curled up small as possible. Jensen put his hand out, intend on brushing some dirt off the guy's face to get a better look, but the guy nuzzled his hand and made a happy noise. "How about you come with me now?"

Naked guy licked Jensen's hand and made a sound too close to a bark for comfort as Jensen felt his gut twist up. He scrambled backwards toward his blanket and seemed to busy himself, gathering his things, Jensen hoped. 

"Everything oka--" Chad's question trailed off as he got a look at Jensen's discovery. "Well, shit."

Naked guy gathered up his blanket, put one arm around his dog friend and stared at Jensen with his big eyes. Jensen tried to ignore the toy in his mouth. He turned to Chad. "We got room in the back of the cruiser for two?"

Once they got Naked Guy and the dog--who was a lot easier to maneuver than Naked Guy--secured in the car, Jensen picked up the radio to call in that they were on the move."

_"What's your result?"_

Jensen looked at Chad helplessly. "What the fuck code is 'Naked Guy thinks he's a dog?'"

"Dude, I got no clue."

Jensen finally gave it a 10-91, non-crime, and requested standby at the station.

_"What's your situation, Car 63?"_

"Got an unidentified, need fingerprinting, possible mental health."

_"Roger that. We'll have resources waiting."_

Naked Guy and the dog pawed-- _don't say pawed, he's got hands. The dog pawed, Naked Guy... scraped_ \--at the metal barrier separating the back of the car from the front for a few minutes before settling down and whining.

"Maybe we should crack the window so he can stick his head out," Chad said.

Jensen glared, even though he'd been thinking the same thing. He lowered it an inch on the dog's side and ignored Chad's smug grin.

At the station, they tried separating them until Naked Guy attempted to throw himself through a glass door to get to the dog. After that, everyone agreed it would be a fine idea to keep them together. In the station's fluorescent lighting, it was easy to see that Naked Guy was covered in crusted cum. It matted his eyelashes and parts of his shoulder length brown hair, and flaked his shoulders and chest. Jensen winced against the sick feeling in his stomach. They'd have to get medical to do STD testing on him, do a rape kit, because even though Jensen wasn't looking too close, he was pretty sure that was specks dried between his legs, if they could get his consent. He glanced at Chad, who looked serious as well as he gave Naked Guy his first fully illuminated once-over. "Fuck," Chad said.

"Yep."

Christian looked grouchy as hell to be doing fingerprinting, but that might have been in part to cover his reaction to doing it on a guy with a chew toy in his mouth. After much encouragement, Naked Guy stood up at the fingerprinting table. It took Jensen and Chad bracing him, one on each side due to his wobbly legs, while he looked around, mouth open--but not so wide the toy fell out--as if he'd never experienced anything so wondrous as the view from his own 6'4" height. Once Christian finished and released his hands, he collapsed back to his knees, almost folding in on himself, and licked his inked fingers until Jensen was able to grab a wet wipe and, holding him by the wrists, clean him off. 

"I'll run him through the system, see if anything pops." Christian gave Naked Guy a look that was half-pity, half-suspicion, and left with the white card containing the prints. 

"Chief says to put him in a holding cell for now," Chad said.

"I asked for mental health to come down."

"Misha's on his way."

Jensen looked up at the mention of his husband. "He's off tonight."

Chad shrugged. "They're short staffed."

Jensen sighed. "Again." He couldn't help but feel guilty that he'd had the call that resulted in Misha not getting the full night of sleep that he deserved. He glanced at Naked Guy. "We can put the dog in with him, right?"

"Act first, apologize later," Chad said. "Come on." Even though he'd directed the words at Jensen, Naked Guy and the dog perked up. They followed Chad out of the room and into a holding cell. Naked Guy gave a curious glance at Winston, who was in there sleeping off a drunk and disorderly. He was in his late fifties, had marinara stains on his nice shirt, and was about as scary as a mouse in a kitten farm. He opened one eye and bleared at Naked Guy.

"I better be dreaming because I know you wouldn't put a nude giant in with me, Ackles."

"Yeah, you're dreaming Winston. Go back to sleep now." Jensen arranged Naked Guy's blanket next to the opposite wall, and tried not to think about what he was doing. Naked Guy circled it three times and sat down. Just like a real dog. His toy, which still hadn't left his mouth, squeaked.

Jensen tried not to think about that either. 

"Come on." Chad nudged him. "Christian will have the results soon and we'll have to fill Misha in. Let's go."

"Yeah." With a last look, Jensen stepped out of the cell and closed the door.

##

"Nothing popped for him as an adult, but I ran his prints through the children's database. He was printed as part of that program started thirty years ago when police went into schools," Christian said.

"I remember," Jensen said. "I got printed as part of that."

"Yeah, well, thanks to that I can tell you that his name is Jared Padalecki, he's twenty-eight years old, and he's never even been visited by a social worker."

"Can you tell us why he thinks he's a dog?" Chad asked.

"Nope."

"Any family?"

"Parents are dead. Doesn't say who raised him."

"Address?"

"Not a current one."

Jensen reached for Christian's print out. "I'll run the one on file."

"Don't bother. It belongs to a house that was torn down twenty-five years ago."

"Are there other Padaleckis in town?"

"Nope."

"We know he hasn't been living under a bridge!" Jensen raised his voice. "Where did he come from?"

"Did you check the dog?" Chad asked.

"She wasn't wearing a collar."

"Looks like a purebred, though. She's probably microchipped."

Jensen grabbed him and planted a fat kiss on his mouth. "That's it!" Ignoring Chad's moan of disgust, he ran toward the cell.

He found Winston sitting up, Jared asleep with his head in Winston's lap, and a puddle of urine on the floor. Winston glared, but Jensen didn't take it personal because he didn't stop petting Jared.

"He had an accident," Winston said. "I told him to use the toilet, but he acted like I was showing him a space ship. Then he got whiny when I yelled at him and next thing I know he's over here." He stopped petting and Jared gave out a high pitched whine, which continued until Winston petted him again. "Is this some kind of new stay sober program? Because it's working."

"Yeah," Jensen said. "That's exactly what it is. Can you keep him calm for thirty seconds? I need to sneak his friend out of here."

"Eh, he's sleeping anyway. Go on." 

Jensen quietly opened the door and lured the other dog out with a sandwich he'd snagged off someone's plate. After securing the door, he led the dog down the corridor with it and handed her off to another officer, who would have to deal with Dr. Robson, the pissed off vet they'd pulled out of bed at 1 am. 

"Better you than me," Jensen said.

"Screw you, Ackles," Officer Fisher said.

##

Misha came, took one look at Jared, spoke to him (a one-sided conversation), and signed a paper to commit him overnight to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation.

"If he's non-violent to others and himself they won't keep him," he said, standing out of Jared's earshot but still in the corridor. "There's not enough space."

"I know." Jensen glanced down toward the cell, where Jared was currently baying, probably calling out for his doggie friend. "I just want him to be safe." 

Misha squeezed his shoulder. "I'll be there."

"And when they kick him out in the morning?"

"Hey." In response to Misha's shake, Jensen looked him in the eyes. "I'll think of something. I promise he won't end up alone and naked."

Jensen forced a smile. "Okay." He pursed his lips, seeking a kiss for reassurance, which Misha gave. 

Still, Jensen couldn't help but feel depressed as he watched Jared, now partially covered by a department jacket draped over his broad shoulders and back, crawl alongside Misha, bumping Misha's hand with his head every few steps to get a pat. There was something odd about it, and not only the fact of his bare ass peeking out beneath the coat (he'd refused pants). It was-- Jensen darted into the cell and came back out with the toy.

"Wait!" He squeaked the toy. Jared turned around and suddenly Jensen had to brace himself for the two hundred pounds of muscle barreling toward him. Jared knocked him over, crawled on him, and slobbered all over his face before grabbing the toy in his mouth and letting two other officers pull him away. He sat down and played with the toy.

"Did someone get the number of that truck?" Jensen asked from the floor.

"I think you're someone's hero," Misha teased. 

Jensen covered his eyes with his forearm. "Just go. Leave me here to die."

Misha laughed, ruffled Jensen's hair, and soon Jensen heard his footsteps walking away, accompanied by the shuffle-brush of Jared in the jacket.

##

Jared was confused. The nice man had left, and Jared was alone in a room. It had two beds, but Jared was the only dog in the room. He'd had a bath, and tried to bite the water as he sat in the tub, which had made the nice man laugh and pet him. Before that, the nice man stayed with him and held his paw while a vet looked at him. Jared hadn't liked it when the vet looked at his bottom, and he'd whined when the vet put something inside him and felt around.

_"He's got some tearing. I'll put some ointment on and get him a prescription for an antiviral. He'll need to be on it until we have his ninety day HIV test back._

Then a lady had stuck a needle in his arm and taken blood out. Jared chewed on his toy until it made a long, sad sound, the same as he felt. After that, the nice man took Jared for a bath and scrubbed him until he shined and let him play in the water. _"I don't know who hurt you, Jared, but you'll be safe here tonight."_ Then he put clothes on him, tops and bottoms, and took him into this room. No one came, even though when Jared's master put clothes on him, it always meant someone would come and his master would take pictures and he would get lots of attention and petting, which almost made having to wear clothes worth it. Almost.

Jared walked around the perimeter, sniffing. When he was certain no one was coming, he snuck onto one of the beds, turned around and around, and lay down. He wondered where Sadie was. Maybe she was in her own room. He hoped she was okay. He needed to pee and crawled down to scratch at the door. No one came to let him out, so he went over to an empty corner and peed there. He lifted his leg so his thing would point away from his body, but he forgot about his bottoms. His pee soaked into them and ran down his leg and along his stomach. He scampered away, but couldn't escape the damp. Finally he found his toy again and calmed down. He curled up on the bed again and tried to ignore the smell and cooling fabric sticking to his legs. 

He'd had a big day, though, and couldn't keep his eyes open. Despite everything, he fell asleep.

He woke up, sticky and hungry. But the nice man was there smiling at him.

"Hi Jared. I'm Misha. We met yesterday? Remember? Misha?"

Jared bumped Misha's hand so he could have a pat. 

The nice man grinned. "Yeah, I knew you did. So, it looks like you had an accident, huh, Jared? Need some new pants?"

Jared pawed his clothes. He needed no pants, not new pants.

"You have to wear pants, Jared," the nice man said. Wait. Maybe there was a reason he kept saying Misha. Maybe it wasn't a nonsense word. Maybe that was his name. "Now, let's get these cold icky ones off you." Jared helped by nipping at Misha's hand as Misha undressed him. "Do you need to pee again?"

Jared nodded and licked Misha's hand. He got off the bed, happy that Misha hadn't scolded him for being on the furniture, and went over to the corner.

"Um. Maybe we try the toilet?"

Jared turned and stared. And peed. With his legs bare, this time Jared was able to point his thing away from his body and hit the wall. 

"Or not," Misha said. He sat down on the bed and waited for Jared to finish. "I can see we're going to need a plan B." Jared bounded back to him, looking for his toy. He dodged out of the way when Misha tried to grab him, came back, and dodged again.

Misha was good at playing Jared's favorite game. Jared liked him. He let Misha catch him and cuddle him eventually, and then he started thinking about food again and hoping that Misha's niceness extended to getting him a bowl of chopped up hotdogs and maybe some macaroni.

They lucked out on the dog. She was microchipped, so now they had more information on her than they had on Jared.

_Name: Sadie. Age: 8 years Breed: German Shepherd Mix_

And it had the address. Which Jensen and Chad were currently pulling into. It was two-story single family home a few miles outside town lines with a well-kept yard and a vegetable garden in the back.

"Plan?" Chad asked, after calling in their location. 

"Just here to talk," Jensen said. Chad looked doubtful and Jensen did his best to make his expression reflect his words and not his feelings, which leaned more toward "take the asshole out back and beat him."

"Sure." Chad led the way to the door and rang the bell. After a minute, he rang again. A frazzled man answered. His sweat pants were untied and he had food stains on his T-shirt. Seeing two uniformed officers, his face fell.

"I see you've been expecting us," Jensen said. "Can we come in?"

The man stepped out. "I'd rather we talk out here."

"Wherever you like. You are Andrew Howitzer?"

"Yes."

"What is your relationship to Jared Padalecki?"

Howitzer sat down on the porch swing and rubbed his knees. "He's my nephew."

"You don't seem much older," Chad said.

"Ten years. I've had custody of him since I was eighteen. He's been, look is this--" He glanced up. "Is he okay? Where did you find him?"

Jensen had lagged behind Chad, so if he had the urge to lunge at Howitzer Chad could get in the way. He stayed back and curled his hand around the porch's railing. "Under the bridge. Where you left him, according to the guys who live there." He clenched the railing, almost hard enough to give himself a splinter. "Naked and with a squeaky toy."

"He had his blanket too," Howitzer said. Then, seeing whatever rage was in Jensen's expression, returned his attention to his hands. "It's his favorite toy," he finished quietly. 

Jensen took a breath and forced himself to look at Howitzer. Really look. He seemed pathetic, but Jensen couldn't feel any pity for him.

Chad glanced at Jensen and back to Howitzer. "Why don't you tell us why he thinks he's a dog and then we can work up to how he ended up under that bridge?"

"It was a game," Howitzer said. "We used to play it when he was little. Six or so. Just pretend. Every time I came over, he wanted to play puppy. His parents never let him have one." He glanced up. "His dad was allergic. It just made him really happy to play it and then, then there was an accident. Car. Our parents died and then it was just the two of us." He stared from Jensen to Chad. "I didn't know what to do. He wouldn't stop crying. I was a kid myself. And then he wanted to play puppy because he'd figured something out. Puppies don't have problems. They're loved and taken care of. And I could do that. I could take care of a puppy. I didn't know how to take care of a little kid." The porch swing creaked as he straightened and bent his legs. "We started playing it more and more and then... it became permanent. By the time he was ten, he had stopped being a boy. I tried to, I mean, I talked to him, but it was easy like this and I didn't try-- I could have tried harder, I know that, but I was afraid someone would take him away, and I'd promised I would take care of him."

"How ironic," Chad said, "because when you think about it, you weren't taking care of him."

"It hasn't been as bad as it seems. You just don't know. Look." Howitzer pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a photo album. "Pictures, see?" He turned it around and showed them as he flipped through picture after picture of Jared in various hats and shirts. The rest of him was not included in the photos. In each, he looked perturbed and disgruntled, but not upset.

"So you've had him for what, twenty years?" Jensen asked. "Long time. Must have been frustrating for you. No wonder you reached the end of your rope."

"I didn't, I mean, my girlfriend gave me an ultimatum."

"Oh, so what you just said about family first, that no longer applies?"

"We're getting married," Howitzer said. "I left my other dog with him. Did you find her?"

Chad started to answer, but Jensen cut him off. "We're not obligated to talk about an open investigation."

"Oh." Howitzer looked disappointed. "Um. Am I going to be in trouble for-- I mean, Jared's an adult. I didn't think I'd be in trouble."

Jensen blinked. "You didn't think you'd be breaking a law if you put a mentally disabled codependent man under a bridge with no clothes?"

"Am I?"

Jensen stepped away from the railing and edged towards the steps. "We'll be in touch, Mr. Howitzer."

"Wait. How's Jared?"

"Do you want him back?" Jensen waited, tense, for his response.

"I, uh, I can't."

"Then that's a question I'm not inclined to answer. Officer Murray." Jensen tilted his head at Chad, who trotted down the stairs after him. Jensen didn't speak until he'd backed the patrol car out of the drive. "Fuck."

"You know what was funny," Chad said.

"Nothing?"

"Those pictures. I've got pictures of my dog dressed up for Halloween, and he's got the same annoyed expression on his little face."

Jensen snorted, halfway between laughter and grief as he thought of Jared being squeezed into a costume every year, confused as all fuck, the same as Chad's little dog. This year it had been Thor, complete with a chewtoy Moljnir and horned hat. "That explains why every picture was him in a costume or a Santa hat."

After a minute of silence, Chad said, "We can get him on cruelty to animals because he abandoned his dog. I noticed you didn't mention that there's not much we can do to him for abandoning Jared."

"Wanted him to sweat." No need to tell Howitzer that the dog had better protection against abuse than Jared under the law. Jensen pressed down the gas pedal. Sometimes, he hated his job.

##

Misha carried his tray across the hospital cafeteria. At eight am, it was almost empty. Jensen had agreed to meet him for breakfast, since Misha had stayed overnight to evaluate Jared. Jensen pushed a cup of Starbucks coffee toward him. He'd already started picking at the cherry danish he'd brought with him. Misha had cold scrambled eggs and sausage from the cafeteria line. He picked up the coffee.

"Thanks."

"How is he?"

"He's in perfect physical health. The HIV quick test came back negative, but he'll need to be retested in three months. We're keeping him on antivirals until then. Mentally, though...."

"Yeah." Jensen had already filled Misha in on his visit to Jared's uncle. "Mentally he thinks he's a dog."

"And we can't keep him here. Boss wants him out by noon. He's not violent and he doesn't have insurance. He can't stay."

"Unbelievable," Jensen said, but his expression was resigned. "We can't just put him out on the street."

Misha stared down at his hands. He'd always been the type, his mother said, to bring small animals home in boxes. Maybe that was what had first given him the idea, that ingrained need to help and fix helpless things.

"What are you thinking of?" Jensen asked. "As if I don't already know." He reached for Misha's hand and slipped his fingers into Misha's palm. Misha squeezed.

"24/7 therapy for him. At our house."

"How would that work?"

Misha noticed, tempering his excitement, that a question was not a "no." "I'll stay home with him."

Jensen leaned backward, but didn't let go of his hand. "What about your job here?"

"I'll take an emergency sabbatical. Boss is always getting on me to publish anyway. He can't deny this is a pretty good topic."

"Guy who thinks he's a dog?" Jensen snorted. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"So... you're good with it? I want to consult with Dr. Roberts as well. One of her speciality areas is PTSD and selective reality. Her input will be important."

After a moment, Jensen nodded. "I'll get the guest room ready."

"I'll bring him home this afternoon. So, we need to talk about how we're going to do this. I don't want to overwhelm him with human activities, especially if he acts like a dog as an escape. I think it would force him backwards." Misha pushed his untouched tray aside, ready to buckle down and start problem-solving. 

"Agreed," Jensen said. "Simple things first. Like, I think he should sleep in a bed and sit at the kitchen table."

"No eating off the floor," Misha said, "but silverware could be too much. We'll encourage him to use his fingers."

"Instead of licking the plate?" Jensen smiled. "With your cooking, that can be difficult even for me."

Misha sighed. "I'm surprised you remember. I haven't cooked in months." 

"I know, baby." Jensen smiled. "But back to Jared--"

"Yeah. Number one priority will be toilet training. I've got him in a diaper now. I don't want to traumatize him with using the toilet if he has a negative association with it, but that'll be a big thing. Otherwise he's going to wet himself constantly because he hasn't figured out how to take clothes off."

"And we need him in clothes," Jensen said.

"Yeah. That's a pretty important part of being human, wouldn't you say?"

Jensen reached over and brushed his thumb over Misha's wrist. "I actually prefer you out of them."

Misha pulled away, but he couldn't stop his smile. "Perv."

Jensen grinned. Then, growing serious, he said, "What about Sadie? She's homeless now too. Are we taking her in as well?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea. If Jared has a dog around, he could ignore our efforts to guide him towards his humanity."

"Or, we could use Sadie to provide examples of things she can't do that Jared can," Jensen said.

"Yeah." Misha thought it over. "But I don't know if that's something we want to start with. Do you think Chad could take her temporarily?"

"Probably." Jensen pulled out his phone. "I have to get going anyway. I'll ask him."

"Thanks, babe." Misha tilted his face up for a kiss. Jensen gave him a peck, grabbed his coffee, and took off. He was always on the edge of late, whereas Misha liked to be everywhere ten minutes early. He pulled his tray back, gave up on the unappetizing food after a few pokes, and snagged Jensen's untouched danish instead.

##

Misha pulled his hippie wagon--Jensen never risked calling the ancient station wagon that in front of his husband, but he had the feeling Misha _knew_ \--into the garage so they could get Jared directly into the house without any neighbor seeing. It took twenty minutes to lure Jared from car door to house door anyway because he had to look at every stinking thing in the garage and then he needed to be cautious about going through another door and into the house.

"Hey, Jared. Remember me?" Jensen put his hand out, like Jared would shake it or something.

Jared looked up at the sound of Jensen's voice, gave a huge dopey grin that melted Jensen's self-proclaimed cold heart, and bounded up the three steps into the house. Jensen looked up at Misha from the floor.

"He remembers you," Misha said.

"Help."

Misha took on a scolding tone. "No, Jared. Get off Jensen."

Jared licked Jensen's cheek a final time and backed off. He sat on his haunches next to him with that same cheerful expression. Jensen sat up and reached forward to touch him. He pushed Jared's hair out of his eyes, needing to see them, to see something in them aside from vacancy. Jared's pupils followed his every move as he sat panting. Still holding his head, Jensen glanced at Misha. "Do you think he understands us?"

"I think he understands what he wants to." Misha gave Jared a light tweak on the ear, sending him into Jensen's chest, nuzzling in for comfort. "He didn't sit still in the car, even though I was very clear about that, but you didn't want to sit down, did you?"

Jared gave an unconvincing whine and tried to hide in Jensen's armpit. Jensen petted his back. "I guess we've got our work cut out for us." Easing Jared off him, he stood. "Come on, Jared, I'll show you your room." 

On his hands and knees, Jared followed. 

If he had an opinion of the guest room, Jared didn't make it clear. He nosed around the corners, ignored the bed, and then looked confused when Jensen, plumping up the pillow, dropped it back on the bed and stood in the doorway saying "I'll leave you to it." Jared sat in the middle of the shag carpeting, held tilted, as Jensen escaped into the hall. Misha was right there, and Jensen grabbed him and held on.

"What are we doing. We can't-- Did you see his eyes? He doesn't know he's a person. Maybe we're being cruel, doing this. I mean--" He pulled back. "How many times have we said, 'wouldn't it be nice to escape'? And he's done it."

Misha hadn't let go of Jensen's shoulders. He squeezed, hard. "He doesn't have anyone else, Jen. Whatever happens, we have to try. He deserves a life of his own. Not as someone's pet."

Jensen glanced away, unable to meet Misha's intense gaze. "Howitzer said..." He swallowed, couldn't believe he was going to repeat the asshole, but it just went to show how fucking helpless he felt. "It was Jared's idea to play the game. Not sayin' it's his fault but--"

"Oh, Jen." Misha's voice softened, and Jensen still didn't look, didn't want to see the affectionate pity that would be on his face. "Howitzer was the adult, and he should have made Jared stop. He took the easy way out. We're the adults now. And we can't do that. Jared needs us do what's right for him."

Jensen forced himself to meet Misha's eyes. "I know." He went in for another hug, needing it to last. "Adults. Fuck." Stepping backwards, he turned toward Jared's room, already thinking of that way instead of as the guest room. "I think first thing we need to do is talk to him, even if he doesn't understand everything. He has a right to know. I'm going to tell him about Sadie."

"Good idea," Misha said. "See, that's your cop instincts. Thinking on your feet."

"Ha ha." Jensen took a breath and, with Misha behind him, stepped into Jared's room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared settles into his new home. Jensen and Misha try to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No special warnings in this chapter, but Chad does give Jensen an idea that will lead to Jensen molesting Jared because Jensen is a moron who thinks Chad has good ideas. No molesting in occurs in this chapter.

Jared scrambled onto the bed as soon as the nice man who had found him under the bridge wasn't looking. Jared hadn't known that he lived where Misha was taking him, and now it seemed Misha and this other nice man both lived in this house. It was a nice house with pleasant smells, and Jared figured he wouldn't mind staying here until his master came for him. The nice man had probably left so he could call Jared's master. Jared whined happily, thinking about his master coming to take him home. He curled up and tucked his knees to his chest. He didn't like how the clothes Misha had put on him clung to him, especially the one that covered his bottom and his thing. It squashed his thing to his body.

The first time, Jared had pawed it until it fell off, but then Misha put another one on him, which he dragged up Jared's legs, instead of having tabs on the side that were easy to break free. This new kind, Jared couldn't get off, and plus Misha had tied his soft pants on tight and Jared couldn't pick the knot open. Jared pushed on his hips, trying to free himself.

Of course, if his master didn't come, maybe Misha and the nice man would adopt him. They hadn't given him a collar, so maybe they were still thinking about it. Jared would have to be extra good because he didn't want to go under the bridge again.

"Jared?" The nice man was back.

Jared bounded off the bed and did his best to act like he hadn't been on it. Jared figured if he did his best whine for a pat, it would be a good enough distraction. The nice man didn't pet him, though, and instead crossed his arms and rubbed them, so Jared wondered if he was angry that Jared had laid down on the nice blanket. He wondered where his blanket was. He hadn't seen it since his visit to the vet. 

"No, it's okay. You can sit on the bed." The nice man sat down on the end of it. He seemed surprised when Jared launched himself up too, putting his forelegs on the mattress and pushing with his hind legs, but Jared had understood SIT and BED and he wasn't ever going to pass up the opportunity to be on furniture. He made the bed shake when he landed. "So, you're probably confused right now--"

Jared did his best to pay attention, even though the nice man waved his hands when he talked and Jared wanted to catch his fingers in his mouth. He forced himself to focus and pick out words that he could understand.

"--but we just want you to k **no** w that we're here, **Misha** and I, I'm Jensen, by the way, to **help** you, **Jared**. Hey, can you understand? Jensen? I'm Jensen. **Jared**?" The nice man touched Jared's shoulder and then touched his own chest. "I'm Jensen. **Jensen**."

Oh. He was called Jensen. Jared licked Jensen's cheek. Laughing, Jensen pushed him away.

"Okay, I guess you understand. So, um, I know it's hard sometimes to be a **person** , and this might be overwhelming for you, **Jared** but if you just trust us, you'll see that it can be **nice** , and maybe eventually you'll **want** to be more human and you won't have to be a **dog** all the time. Does that sound **good**?

Jared pieced together what Jensen had said. No Misha help Jared. Jensen person. Jared nice. Want good dog. He mulled it over while Jensen sat quietly. Jared nudged him. He could be petting him while he was just sitting there. He hummed when Jensen finally scritched his ears. Jared resumed his thinking. Of course! Misha wouldn't help Jared. (He didn't think he had that right because Misha was very nice, but Jensen might have been talking about the clothes Misha had made him wear, which weren't helpful at all. Maybe he could get Jensen to help him get them off. He directed a pitiful expression at Jensen, who made a loud sigh and petted him more.) Jared returned to thinking about Jensen's words. Jensen was a person. That was easy. And he thought Jared was nice, and he wanted a good dog. Like Jared! Jared squirmed into Jensen's lap. He tried to turn around before he sat down and ended up knocking Jensen backwards, which made turning a lot easier.

"Um," Jensen said. Jared settled down on Jensen's lap and chest and licked his face.

Now all he needed was a collar and he'd be the happiest dog in the world.

##

Jared sat at the kitchen table with his forearms planted firmly on either side of his plate, palms down, and kneeling in the chair. He had a strange way of holding himself, which Misha figured was because he was doing his best to mimic how he'd seen other dogs move and sit, but which he couldn't replicate because of how he, as a human, was constructed. (Plus he was a six-foot four-inch man trying to fold his huge legs onto a standard-sized kitchen chair. His solution was to let his feet hang off the sides of the seat.) Misha, having had time to cook for once, had made steak and broccoli. When Jared wasn't busy looking incredibly confused, he gazed at his plate as if it were the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. He didn't touch it, though, and his expression changed to dismay the longer the food remained uneaten.

Jensen had taken the seat across from Misha at their four-person table. It was pushed against a wall, reducing its seating capacity to three. Jared sat opposite the wall, in between Misha and Jensen. They'd chosen that arrangement specifically so they could both help him. They'd wrestled him into a clean pair of Jensen's soccer shorts and a T-shirt what was too tight for him, but it was the best they could do after an attempt to show Jared how to use the toilet had gone awry. 

After Misha had pulled Jared's diaper down, he'd seemed willing enough when Misha had pointed at the toilet and said "pee, Jared," but Misha hadn't been able to keep hold of him to get him turned around and seated. Instead, from the floor, naked from the waist down, Jared raised his leg. The resulting spray had hit the white scrubs he'd been wearing from the hospital, splashed Jensen in the face, and doused the toilet, wetting it everywhere except in the bowl. In retrospect, maybe what Misha had interpreted as willingness was in truth delight to be free of the diaper.

Jared had seemed pleased as punch when the result was a bath, especially when Misha set the handheld shower head on massage and let it pummel his back. Jensen had scrubbed his face at the sink and had dropped his shirt on top of Jared's clothes.

Jared had been less happy when Misha had put another pull-up diaper on him afterward. And less pleased still with his new clothes, although Misha couldn't blame him for that. They simply didn't have anything to fit him.

"I think he's waiting for the command," Jensen said. He grinned. "Hey, he has better table manners than us."

"I would find that amusing if it wasn't because he was trained that way." Saying it out loud, Misha almost felt sick. Jensen's smile fell as well. _Trained._ Just the fact that Jared had received _instruction_ in Dog belied his uncle's flimsy claim that Jared's behavior was a whim that Howitzer simply tolerated. Watching Jared now, it was impossible to believe anything except that Howitzer had been hands-on active.

"Well, if you think about it, that's what manners are, right?" Jensen said. "Training? Although it is creepy when you put it that way." He reached for his water, but retracted his hand with a guilty look at Jared. He touched Jared's hand. "Now, Jared--" Jared perked up. "Misha cut your steak up for you so you don't need to use a fork and knife."

Based on the way Jared's breathing changed pattern during Jensen's talking, Misha guessed that of that speech, he recognized their names and steak. He glanced down at his own plate. Not for the first time, he wondered how far in over their heads they were going.

"Just use your fingers." Jensen demonstrated, picking up a piece from Jared's plate, since he had a whole steak on his.

With a growl that seemed to start in his belly, Jared lunged forward and covered the plate with his head and chest. "Ow!" Jensen rocked backwards, almost upending his chair. "He bit me!" He clutched his wrist. "Fuck, shit. Ow!" Getting up, he hopped around the kitchen, alternating between shaking his hand out and holding it against his chest. Jared made a cage with his body around his plate and bared his teeth.

"Jared, no!" Misha regretted his reaction immediately. They were teaching Jared to be a person, and what did Misha do? Reacted as if he were a dog. Jared snapped his teeth once more, but it warred with a new, guilty look. He settled into a forlorn expression that relied on his big eyes and frowning mouth, but didn't give up the guard on his plate. "Jared." Misha made his voice soft. "It's okay." He glanced over at Jensen, who was rinsing his hand in the sink. "Did he break the skin?"

"No. Just bruised my ego, I think. I should have known not to touch his food. I mean, it's the first thing you learn about..." He scrunched his face up. "Uh, you know."

"Dogs," Misha finished for him. "Yeah." Taking a risk, he rubbed Jared's back, prepared to leap away if need be. Jared looked at him mournfully and tilted until his head came under Misha's hand as well. Jensen returned to the table and removed his and Misha's plates. "What are you doing?"

"Idea. You keep him distracted." He went to the counter and came back two minutes later with plates that now looked identical to Jared's, with the steak cut into bite-sized pieces. "I thought this might go better if we showed him how to do it with our food. Maybe he'll copy us."

Misha stopped scratching Jared to gaze in open appreciation at his husband.

"Stop it." Jensen rubbed his neck and squirmed.

"What?" Misha knew damn well what.

"You know damn well what. That's your 'Jensen's got a brain' face."

"It's my 'Jensen's got a sexy brain' face," Misha corrected him. Grinning, he leaned down to Jared. "Jared, we're going to eat now." Jared sat up, his expression clearly conveying that he was waiting for another trick. "Like this, see?" Misha picked up a piece of steak from his own plate, showed Jared, and put it in his mouth.

"See, Jared? Eat like this." Jensen did the same. Jared's panting increased as they each took a second bite.

"Okay?" Misha asked. He patted Jared's shoulder, but this time Jared was too focused on the food to acknowledge it. "Show us. Eat."

Jared still didn't move. "For someone who bites, he sure is well-trained," Jensen said. He scooted a little closer to the wall, probably wary of getting in Jared's food space. "Jared. Go ahead."

That was the magic phrase. Jared dove face-first into the plate and began gobbling everything his mouth vacuumed in. Jensen rolled a piece of broccoli between his thumb and forefinger. "I think this plan needs more work." He chomped.

Misha sighed. He hadn't expected easy, but seeing the reality laid out for them was terrifying. Looking across the table, he saw that Jensen's expression mirrored his thoughts. Jensen smiled when he noticed Misha's focus. "Your idea," Jensen said, looking gleeful as all fuck that for once the crazy thing hadn't been something he'd thought of. Misha had to laugh. It eased the disruptive feeling they wouldn't be eating a normal meal for a long time. He turned to Jared. "Jared. Stop." Jared stopped, though he gave a pitiful whine. Misha picked up another piece of meat and held it for him to see. "Let's try this again...."

##

Jensen wished he'd asked for the night off; he didn't like the idea of being on patrol while Misha was home alone with Jared. Granted, Jared would probably just curl up on the couch with him, as he had the last two nights, but it was still possible that something might happen and Misha would need Jensen. From the passenger seat, Chad yawned. He raised his fist to his mouth at the last second before dropping his hand back into his lap. The billboard they'd hidden behind was a notorious speed trap--not many places to hide in the prairie lands outside town--and so far they hadn't been able to catch a single car speeding on radar.

"How's Sadie settling in?" Jensen asked.

"Oh, you know." Chad looked at him without moving his head. "She's a dog. Doing fine. Friends with the other dog already. How's your... uh, how's Jared?"

Jensen focused on the dark road perpendicular in front of them and the headlights coming too fast down it. "He's supposed to be seeing a specialist tomorrow. Someone Misha knows. She's coming to the house. He's not picking up on anything we try with him. We put him to bed in a bed and he thinks it's a treat. We demonstrate how to pick up his food, and put a piece in his hand when he doesn't get it, and he happily licks it up and starts acting like his hand is a salt lick." The car slammed on its brakes judging by the rate it slowed and entered the radar zone at 55 mph. 

"Shit," Chad said. "Thought we'd get that one." He shifted in his seat, restless as well, and dug into the open bag of potato chips laying between them. "Well, it'll be, I mean, ah shit, I don't know what to say. I, well... He's not your responsibility."

Rubbing the back of his neck did nothing to rub away the guilt building in Jensen's gut. "I know, but Misha wants to try, and I'm supporting him. He really is a good, Jared I mean, he's friendly and sweet and he seems like he'd be a good person. Someone I'd like to know."

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't want it?"

"He doesn't know what he wants." _Christ, when did his dad get in the car?_

"You're doing what's best for him, yeah yeah," Chad said. "But what happens when you get your wish, Jared's brain clicks over to 'person', and he realizes, 'oh fuck, I've been acting like a dog my whole life.'?"

Jensen couldn't summon any emotion into his voice. "I don't know." He stared out without seeing, and snatched the chips away after Chad rustled through the bag for another and crunched down. He didn't want to hear it, not because he thought it wouldn't happen, but because the previous night he'd lain in bed holding Misha and said the same thing to him.

_"Pretending to be a dog isn't a coping mechanism, Jen. It's not like meditation. Jared needs us. He doesn't know it yet, but he does."_

Jensen hadn't been able to sleep because he'd felt like such an asshole. He turned to Chad to find him glaring at him with an expression that expressed the same sentiment. "What?"

Chad snapped the chips back and shoved a handful into his mouth. He chewed, making sure to show Jensen every bite. Jensen groaned and looked away. Sometimes it was damn hard to remember why Jensen called him his best friend.

"Hey." In response to Chad's light punch, Jensen turned. Chad tossed the bag at him, grinning. "You can have the rest."

And sometimes, it was easy.

##

Jared didn't know how long it had been since Misha had brought him home, but he was happy. He didn't understand the training, but he liked the attention that Misha and Jensen gave him. The truth was, Jared was a very smart dog and he knew he needed to be a good boy in order for them to decide to keep him. He was careful not to go outside, not even into the yard, so he wouldn't accidentally get lost. Without a collar, no one would know where to bring him home.

A lady came and sat on the floor with him. At first Jared was wary of her because after his Master's lady had scolded him, he'd put Jared and Sadie under the bridge. This lady looked at Jared's paws and put things that weren't food in his hands--Jared knew because he tried to lick them, putting his head down to reach instead of bringing his paw to his mouth.

_"We were wondering if he might have more extensive brain damage," Misha said. "Something that his uncle might have used to make him like this. He's not responding to anything we've tried."_

_Dr. Roberts took the toy from Jared's hand. "He is responding. Just not like you want him to. She shone a light in Jared's eyes and smiled and patted his shoulder when he squirmed but stayed put. Glancing at Misha, she said, "It's going to be a lot of work and a lot more patience."_

Elaine--the lady--talked to Jared for a long time and then she put some toys out in a line. Jared took the ball and ran away and then ran back to her so she could throw it.

_"We should get him a CAT scan, don't you think?" Misha asked._

Jared growled. He didn't want a cat. He calmed when Misha stroked his fur, pushing it behind his ear. "It's okay, Jared. Not a real cat." At the reassurance, Jared relaxed against Misha's leg.

_"I think he can understand more words. Maybe I'm imagining it."_

_"His uncle might not have spoken to him enough. Or only addressed him like a dog. Are you and Jensen talking to him?"_

_Misha shrugged, his face pinched with guilt. "Not as much as we should."_

_"Okay." Elaine squeezed Misha's shoulder and made him look at her. "Your assignment this week: Talk to him._

_Misha nodded, chin tucked down to his chin, and he couldn't meet her eyes._

She took the toys when she left. Jared followed after her to get them back, but Misha called him over to the couch and Jared bounded up for a cuddle. Misha was a good cuddler. This time, instead of being quiet like he was most nights, he talked. And talked and talked. Jared fell asleep with the buzz of words falling over him. _"...I don't know if this will do any good, but we're not giving up. I promise, Jared. Jensen and I, we won't give up on you."_

##

Jensen dropped his keys into the painted metal bowl on the kitchen counter as he walked past it into the living room. Misha gave him a weary smile from the couch. Brushing Misha's bangs off his forehead, Jensen bent to give him a kiss. "Rough day, babe?" He followed Misha's glance to the recliner, where Jared had squeezed himself into a ball and was doing his best to decapitate his stuffed bear with his teeth. His brown hair fell over his face and with the way he was bent some of it was long enough to touch his naked back. He'd figured out how to snag his shirt on the edge of the kitchen table and back out of it and then scamper away, so most of the time it was a two-person job to dress him again between the dodging and squirming. Jensen came home most days to find him half dressed.

"You could say that," Misha said.

Jensen stroked his hair. "Hey. Remember what you said about rushing him."

"I know, but--" They, meaning Misha and Dr. Elaine, were currently treating Jared under a "fake it till you make it" theory (Jensen's term, Misha had something more doctor-y sounding) wherein they taught Jared how to go through the motions of human behavior with the hope that he'd start to see himself as one. Jensen went along with it. United front, etc. etc. It was early days yet, and so far Jared had seemed delighted, if confused, to have constant attention and new "tricks" like sitting with his feet on the floor. 

"HI!" Jared bounded up, releasing the bear. He thundered over to Jensen and danced around his feet from the floor.

"Hi Jared." Jensen tried to keep his smile happy as he watched Jared stare up at him like he'd hung the sun just for coming home. In another life, Jared might have given him that look and Jensen would have savored it, burned under it. Now he just felt helpless.

"HI HI HI HI HI!"

The first time Jared had done this, Jensen and Misha had almost wept. It was progress. Amazing, unaccountable progress. But then he kept doing it. It was nothing but a bark to him. A happy bark, a bark that meant something to be sure, but he'd somehow separated the sound of the greeting into something he, as a dog, could do to express his joy. Jensen scratched Jared's head. Jared had a rich, deep voice when he barked. If he ever managed to speak words, it would probably be the sort to make Jensen's knees go weak. 

"We tried with blocks earlier," Misha said. "He got confused, so I let him play with bear."

Jared bumped Jensen's hand and whined. Jensen resumed scratching. "You've both been working hard."

"He's learned one thing, though. We were going to wait to show you but-- Jared, do you want to show Jensen what we've practiced?"

Jared looked uncertain at first, but at Misha's gesture he backed up on his knees. Misha came and knelt in front of him and placed Jared's hands on his shoulders. "Okay. One. Two... Three." Misha slowly began to stand and Jared rose up with him. They stood together, Jared on shaky legs. He licked Misha's face.

"That's fantastic!" Jensen said. "Jared, you're so good! Mish, I can't believe you kept this from me!"

"Wait, there's more," Misha said. "Ready, Jared?"

Jared returned his focus to Misha with intensity that suggested his balance depended on Misha's attention. Misha gripped Jared's hands, pulled them off his shoulders and stepped backwards until they stood two arm lengths apart. "Good. Good." He repeated the praise with each micro-inch he retreated. Jared's brow furrowed as his knees shook. "Jen, tell Jared how good he's doing."

Jensen had been too fascinated to breathe, never mind speak. "You're great, Jared," he said quickly.

"Okay, Jared. Let go." Misha opened his hands to make it easy. Jared still hadn't grasped the concept of holding things, but he'd set his hands into Misha's at an angle that didn't easily slide. "Ready?"

"HI."

Misha stepped backwards and Jared was on his own. He stood, wobbling for five seconds. With each one he looked more and more amazed and stared down at his legs. Then a fly buzzed into the room and he took a step toward it.

"Oh my god. He's walking!" Misha grabbed Jensen's shirt. Jared tumbled to the floor. Before they could check if he was okay, he was up again, growling and snapping at the fly from his knees. Misha laughed, tears of relief in his eyes. "Well, one step any way." Jensen tugged him down to the couch.

"That was amazing."

Misha grinned. "Now all we have to do is get him to pee in the toilet." Jared, perhaps unconsciously, touched his hip where, beneath his sweats, he still wore adult pull-ups. He'd made his hatred of them abundantly clear, but when they'd tried to have him go without, he'd seen it as his opportunity to pee with abandon, unhindered by the restrictive device.

It had taken a bottle of bleach to scrub the kitchen floor clean after Jared had let loose on the sliding glass door. The expression on his face when his urine splashed back at him was almost worth the clean up afterward. Although with this new standing thing, maybe they could give the old "point and shoot" a try. 

Giving up on the fly, Jared clambered onto the couch and stretched out across their laps.

"You're heavy, you know that?" Jensen asked, giving in to Jared's silent but persistent request to be petted.

It was peaceful, if he didn't think about the weirdness, the _wrongness_ of it. A man, his husband, and his brain-washed or brain-damaged, both maybe despite what they'd been told, human dog. It hadn't seemed weird for awhile, and Jensen wondered what that said about him, about what kind of man he was. As for being wrong--they were doing all they could to help Jared, and in the meantime all they could do was keep him safe and happy to the best of their ability. Misha cuddled against him too. Jensen petted him as well.

"Quit petting me," Misha mumbled.

"Sorry," Jensen grinned. 

Jensen's grumbling stomach interrupted his repose. "What's for dinner?" he asked. Misha looked blearily at him. He started to get up, nudging Jared off, who didn't look pleased to be moved.

"I can heat up those pot pies in the freezer."

Jensen pushed him back down. "I'll do it. You stay here."

Misha looked like he might protest, but with another shove he let his head hit a throw pillow and his body sagged. Jared darted down to the spot Jensen had vacated and somehow crammed 6'5" into the space of one cushion. Jensen was starting to think he was missing a pair of ribs to be able to bend like that. He pulled a quilt over Misha. "I'll get you up in forty minutes."

"Forty-five," Misha mumbled, already half lost to consciousness.

"Forty-five," Jensen repeated dutifully and made his way into the kitchen. This was bad. Normally Misha wouldn't let him near the kitchen. Ever since he'd started a two-alarm fire with the toaster (only partly on purpose as he hated cooking almost as much as he sucked at it), Misha had limited Jensen's culinary activity to chopping vegetables, figuring that as a police officer he was at least qualified to handle knives. But he got edgy if Jensen came within three floor tiles of anything that made heat. He should be able to heat three pot pies. Of course, he'd said that once about toast.

But it would probably be just as dangerous for Misha today. Jensen kicked himself for not noticing earlier how the last few weeks had taken a toll on him. Bags under his eyes, red blood vessels showing in his whites, and his pallor washed out, he looked like he hadn't slept in a year. Jensen slept next to him; he should have noticed. They hadn't had sex since Jared came, but Jensen had been working late and came home tired. It hadn't occurred to him that Misha would have been too tired as well. When they talked, it was mostly about Jared and a little about Chad, but that was mostly for comic relief as he was currently using Sadie to pick up women, endeavors that earned Sadie more fans than it did Chad. Still, he refused to be sullen about it and simply kept trying.

He pulled the pot pies, Marie Callender brand, out of the freezer and with the help of the printed directions turned the oven on. It frustrated Misha that Jared had made so little progress, even with therapy for almost eight hours a day. Jared seemed as stubborn in not improving as Misha was in thinking he would improve. 

After setting the pot pies on a baking pan, Jensen sat at the table, waiting for the oven's light to go on and indicate it had reached 425 degrees. There had to be something they were missing, some key to unlocking Jared. Whatever he had going on in his brain. What was Jared's Helen Keller moment? They didn't have a backyard water pump to stick his hand under and he'd been bathed enough that Jensen doubted water would be key to his epiphany anyway. But there had to be something the doctors hadn't considered. The oven dinged as the light went on and Jensen got up to put the baking pan inside. He put the timer on his phone to forty-five and returned to the living room. 

Misha was fast asleep. He'd stretched out the length of the couch. Jared was on the floor, looking content and sleepy, stretched over his bear, a big thing, four feet and just as wide, and pale tan faux fur and cotton stuffing as soft as could be imagined, as if he'd conquered it. He gnawed on a fuzzy ear.

What was in Jared's mind? Did he have normal thoughts? Was he even capable of them? As if he could hear Jensen thinking about him, Jared raised his head and dropped his mouth open. "Almost dinner time," Jensen said. Sometimes he and Misha were convinced Jared understood every word they said and other times when Jared occupied himself like this and seemed to lose all interest in anything else... not so much. He responded to a wider vocabulary though, than when he'd arrived.

Looking pleased, Jared resumed chewing. Jensen fell into the recliner. His life didn't seem so peaceful now. He felt twisted up and confused. Worried, most of all. His gaze fell on Misha, whose face was tense even in sleep. Misha couldn't go on like this, but fuck if Jensen knew what to do. They wouldn't abandon Jared, that wasn't even in question. But for the rest--knowing what Jared needed, how to help him and by extension Misha--Jensen didn't have a clue.

##

Jared sat with his bottom in the chair and his feet on the floor. Using his front paws, he kept his balance by pressing down on the chair next to his haunches. He watched Misha's hand, moving his head as Misha moved.

"Good. Gooood," Misha said. Jared swelled up with pride at the praise, although his focus was on the bit of chicken in Misha's hand. The first piece took longer and longer to earn and he salivated for it. "All right," Misha said, finally, and tipped the fork into Jared's open mouth. Jared removed the morsel with care, having learned the hard way that he mustn't snap down on the unyielding metal. It was hard like the buckle on his collar used to be, when he'd worn a collar. He still missed it sometimes, but Misha and Jensen hadn't talked about not keeping him, so maybe he could stop worrying about that.

"Did you see how good he's doing?" Misha asked Jensen. Jared turned to see Jensen's answer. Jensen held his thumbs up. Jared looked down at his paws. He felt a nudge in his joints, like he could do that too. He tried and his small finger bent. Glancing up to see if his new owners watched him, he saw that they were busy dishing food onto the table. With the chair training finished, Jared got up on his back paws again to sit properly.

After dinner, it was time for his bath and Jared trotted happily into the bathroom to wait for Misha to come undress him. Jensen came instead. "Sorry big guy. You've got me tonight." He ruffled Jared's fur. "Misha will help with story time, though." Jared licked his approval on Jensen's face. "Uck. Okay," Jensen laughed. "Time to get naked." Jared rolled onto his back and stuck his legs in the air.

"No. Stand up. Come on, now that you can do it, we're trying something new." Jensen nudged him up. Jared stood, wobbly. "Good. Hold onto me for balance if you need to."

Jared held. Jensen stripped his sweatpants and diaper off and helped him step out of them. "Okay, step over to the toilet. We're going to try something new." With Jensen's help, Jared took a few careful steps to stand in front of the toilet. He stared down at the water. He knew he was supposed to pee in it. Raising his leg to balance one foot on the bowl, he was surprised when Jensen pushed it back down. "No, buddy. Like this." And then Jensen took hold of Jared's thing. Jared started--no one ever touched his thing, except for moving it one way or the other as his diaper went on or in the bath. But Jensen held it and pointed it at the water. "Pee, Jared."

Jared licked Jensen's face. "Yeah, yeah. Come on now. You don't want to pee in the bath, do you?" 

Jared didn't see how that was a problem. His thing felt nice in Jensen's hand. Just as he noticed it starting to feel plump, Jensen pulled his hand away and helped Jared return to the floor before he stepped away. Jensen rubbed his face and coughed. "On second thought, why don't you sit down to pee?" He didn't move to help, though, so Jared pulled himself up and sat down on the toilet as he'd been taught. He held onto the sides and waited for Jensen to push his thing down between his legs like Misha would, but Jensen stayed against the wall not looking at him. 

The pee hit the sink, the wall, and Jensen. Jensen sighed and stepped fully clothed into the shower. He got out without a word and toweled his hair dry. Jared hadn't moved from the toilet. He tried to make himself small. 

"I'm not mad at you, Jared. It's my fault. I've been peed on enough I should know better. People are going to think I've got a kink."

After Jared was sitting in the bath, Jensen handed him a rag. Jared stared at it. Jensen lifted Jared's paw and placed the rag on it. Then he bent Jared's arm and, with his hand on Jared's paw, made him rub the rag across his chest. "This is washing yourself, Jared. It's what you do if you don't have anyone to do it for you." Jared frowned and pointedly dropped the rag. Jensen picked it up again, this time doing Jared's shoulders on his own. "Yeah, all right, you've got someone so you don't need to learn? Smart ass." 

Jared barked his pleasure that Jensen understood.

After his bath, Misha came in to help Jensen dress him. Jared got away and was able to stay naked into the hallway where they caught him and wrestled him into a new diaper. They pulled a shirt over his head and let him go without his sweatpants. Finally, Jensen and Misha lay on their backs on the floor, panting, and Jared bounced and snuggled between them. Misha weakly patted his back. "Well, that's done."

Next was bedtime, and Jared trotted off happy knowing that soon he'd be cuddled between his owners on his nice bed as they read to him. He didn't pay attention to the story; he just liked having them both with him. 

Then Misha kissed his cheek and Jensen ruffled his fur and smiled at him. They always left the door open as they left. Jared snuggled into a ball on top of the covers and yawned. He was almost asleep when he heard noises. His senses popped to life. His masters might need his protection! 

Jared crept down the hallway to investigate the strange noises. They were coming from Misha and Jensen's room. He nosed the unlatched door open. Oh! It was the rutting game! Jensen was on top of Misha, moving his hips. Jared bounded onto the bed, excited to play. He began rutting Jensen's leg and sniffled and licked his shoulder.

"Uhh. Jared?" Jensen said. "What are you doing?" Jared continued his happy humping.

"Jared!" Misha said. Jared stopped. The rutting game was the reason his master had put him under the bridge. Now Misha and Jensen would put him under there. He'd be cold and frightened and the men would put their things in his mouth and bottom. He'd forgotten. Stupid, Jared. Stupid! He shot out of the room. He was a good dog. He'd leave now, before they got angrier. He could find his own place to go. He could hide in the back yard! He skidded into the living room and stopped, hindered from flight by the closed door. 

"Jared. What are you doing? Do you need to pee?" Misha crouched in front of him. Jared gave a weak growl. "We're not angry. It's okay. Come back to your bed. It's okay." He talked soothingly, and Jensen made soft noises. Jared stared at them. They weren't making him leave? They still loved him. He gave Misha a weak lick to test his reaction. Misha beamed. Jared pounced on him, licking in joy. "That's right! Come on, now."

Jared went slowly back to his bedroom. Misha sat down next to him and petted him. Jensen stayed in the doorway.

"We can't go on like this," Jensen said. "If we can't know what's going on in his head that made him freak out like that--"

"I know." Misha's voice sounded sharp, and Jared flinched. Misha patted him and made soothing noises. "Don't talk like that in front of him. We'll figure something out."

"It needs to be soon."

"Is that an ultimatum?"

"No." Jensen moved up to hug Misha from behind. "But for both of your sakes, you know it's true."

Misha reached up and clenched Jensen's hand. "I know."

##

"I don't know if he's making any progress." Jensen pointed the speed radar at a car a mile up the road. Almost in range... "If he'd just do one thing, even something tiny to show Misha his hours of hard work weren't in vain..." He rubbed his ear to stop Sadie nuzzling him. She was in the back, along for the shift because Chad claimed she felt "lonely" at home.

Chad tossed a pretzel into the back seat. Sadie caught it. "I taught her how to do that."

"I'm not going to teach Jared how to catch things in his mouth," Jensen said. "Besides, he already knows how. He can catch a marshmallow from fifty feet."

"Impressive. What else have you been doing?"

"He'll sit with his feet on the floor for timed periods. That's about it."

The car drove by at the speed limit. 

"What about jerking off?"

"What?"

"Teach him how to hold his dick. Instant gratification. Bet you a hundred bucks once he figures out how to blow his own load he'll learn what else his hands are for."

Jensen stared at Chad's outstretched hand, the signal to seal the bet.

"You're sick."

Chad dropped his hand and shrugged. "I don't know man, seems like cruelty to me not to teach him." He thumbed towards Sadie. "She licks her privates all the time, but poor Jared, there's no one taking care of his needs."

"He doesn't have needs, he's a..." Jensen stopped before he caught himself out.

"Yeah," Chad said. "I didn't think you wanted to finish that sentence." 

Jensen stared into the darkness, fighting the conflicting urges to fume and be sick. He couldn't do that. But if it helped Jared.... And he wouldn't have to touch him, just teach Jared how... No. Just no.

##

Misha arranged three upturned shoe boxes on the coffee table and again lifted the middle one to show Jared that his toy was under it. "Okay, it's under the green one, Jared. Now I'm going to move the boxes and you show me where your toy is."

Jared sat on his haunches, eyes locked on the green box. Misha moved it to the outside. Jared's eyes remained on the center box, which was now orange. 

"Find your toy."

Jared whined.

"The green one," Misha prompted.

Jared head-butted the orange box off the table.

Misha leaned back on the floor and sighed. Then he picked up the box. "Once more, Jare."

##

Jensen came home while they were playing the game where Misha moved Jared's toy out of the way so Jared could knock an empty box on the floor. It was great fun and Misha liked it too because they played it for hours. Jared bounded over to lick Jensen. Jensen held him off and petted him. Jared curled around his legs, scenting him. He smelled like... like Sadie! Jensen had seen Sadie! He tried climbing up Jensen's legs to see if he could pick up more of her scent, but Jensen said, "Jared, down," so Jared got down.

"How's he been?" Jensen asked.

"I'd better start dinner," Misha said.

They disappeared into the kitchen then. Jared pushed the green box to the end of the table so his toy would drop out and went to curl up on the recliner. Life couldn't get better than this.

Except if he could get rid of his diaper. He pawed at it through his sweatpants and made it crinkle. Maybe if he were really good, they'd let him leave it off. That would be the best.

##

In clearing the table after dinner, Misha dropped his plate on the floor. It had simply slipped from his hands, his grip not helped by the enormous yawn he'd made before the crash. "Shit." He stared down at it.

"I'll get it." Jensen stooped down with a dish towel, gently pushing Jared aside, who was on the floor too, trying to lick the spilled food. "Jared, no. Go sit down." Jared whined but returned to his chair.

"I'm sorry," Misha said.

Jensen glanced up. "You want me to give him his bath tonight?"

"No, it's fine."

"You can hardly stay on your feet." Jensen stood up with the plate and towel. "Go to bed. Let me take care of Jared." Misha looked uncertain. "Come on, babe, nothing went wrong last time."

"I guess not..."

"It's settled then." He kissed Misha's cheek. "Off to bed with you." Jensen glanced at Jared as Misha stumbled blearily out of the room. A knot had settled in his stomach. He was going to do this.

He had to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen listens to Chad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for molestation (Jensen/Jared) and past child molestation (OMC/young!Misha).
> 
> Also there is a dismembered murder victim in this chapter. (OMC)

Jared splashed happily in the bath. Jensen tried not to stare too openly between his legs, not that Jared would have noticed. Jensen had seen him hard before; sometimes they took his diaper off and his cock sprung up with the enthusiasm of Jared's greetings. It was soft now, floating nicely in the water.

Jensen took a breath. "Jared. I want to try something."

Jared perked up. He was always so excited to try new things. Jensen prayed he wasn't about to traumatize him. 

Jensen lowered his hand into the water. Instead of grabbing Jared's cock directly, he went for Jared's hand and gently moved it. Jared made a little whine when he touched himself. His eyes got big. For a moment, Jensen stared at him, judging Jared's reaction. He seemed fine. The whine was between confused and pleasant. "It's okay. You can do this." Keeping Jared's hand in between his own and Jared's cock, Jensen closed Jared's fingers. "There, see? Does that feel good? Now we're going to move a little..." He guided Jared to stroke himself, keeping his grip tight so Jared would feel the squeeze. Jared stared at him.   
Jared whined again, and shifted his hips up. Together, they held him, soft, Jensen guiding Jared to squeeze until the little sea animal became an underwater monster. He began to pant.

"Yeah, that's right. See how you can hold it and it makes you feel good? Holding things is good, Jared."  
This was working out great. Jensen even relaxed his grip and Jared kept at it. Maybe Chad wasn't such a dumbass after all.

##

Jared was touching his thing and Jensen was helping him. Jared almost couldn't breathe, the feeling was so amazing. He felt it in his toes. This was so much better than the rutting game! This was better than any game Jared had ever played. A whine started down deep in his throat. He wished Jensen would look at him, but Jensen was turned away, the back of his neck was pink, even as he kept telling Jared it was okay. Jared whined when Jensen took his hand away.

"Try it on your own."

Jared stared at Jensen and down at his thing. 

"Fine." Jensen helped Jared hold it again and the good feeling returned. 

Jared slid down in the bath and closed his eyes. 

"Nuh uh." Jensen's grip disappeared. Jared tried to nip him to get him to put it back. "This isn't a spa, Jared. If you want to feel good, you have to put the work in."

Pouting, Jared put his paw back and carefully closed it around his thing. He waited for Jensen to help him move it. When he did, it was the greatest feeling Jared had ever experienced. He put his head back and yowled in sheer happiness. The pleasure stopped all too soon when Jensen helped him out of the bath. He toweled Jared off and took him down to his bedroom. Jared saw a diaper sitting on his dresser and prepared to bolt. Jensen blocked the door. "No diaper tonight, Jared. I want you to lie on the bed and show me what you just learned."

Jared bounded onto the bed with renewed excitement. No diaper and he got to touch his thing?? It must mean it was good to touch his thing if he got to have his diaper off. This was the best time ever in his life!! He pawed himself and looked expectantly at Jensen. He whined when Jensen was slow to react. "I can't believe I owe Chad a hundred dollars," Jensen muttered. _Finally_ , Jensen wrapped his hand around Jared's paw and the awesome feeling returned. He lay back on his pillow and let his tongue loll out of his mouth.

##

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

One glance at Misha's clenched face and Jensen's pride melted away. "Um." He removed his hand from Jared's wrist. Jared opened his eyes and his blissful expression gave way to one of confusion as his gaze darted from Misha to Jensen. He began to whine. Jensen started to pet him, but pulled his hand away. Probably not a good idea to keep touching him, given Misha's expression of not-at-all-veiled fury. 

"Jensen." Misha jerked his head toward the hall and stepped out of the doorway. Jensen stumbled out after him. This was not good. He began to explain before he was out of the room, words pouring out of him as he followed Misha into the kitchen, tumbling over each other in the way that was more common to Misha. Jensen's method of communication tended more towards nod and grunt, sometimes smirk.

"I thought if he had immediate positive reinforcement that would show him the benefit of knowing how to hold something--"

Misha stared. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "So you thought you'd teach him how to jerk off??"

"Well..." Jensen found the floor very interesting in that moment. "I couldn't think of anything that would work." He glanced up, desparately seeking Misha's approval. "We've tried everything else!"

"You molested him." Misha pointed in the direction of the bedrooms. "That was molestation."

"He's a grown--"

Misha erupted. "HE THINKS HE'S A DOG. Don't you dare call him a man. Not in this situation. Don't you dare."

Maybe it was the force of Misha's reaction, maybe it was the guilt welling up as the truth of what he'd done sank in; something made Jensen's knees go out. He spun a chair around and sat down before he fell. He couldn't summon the strength to even apologize. Managing a moan, he dropped his head into his hands.

Misha sat down as well. "You really fucked up."

"I know."

"You're not a psychologist."

"I know."

"Being a cop doesn't make you an expert on behavioral therapy."

"I know." Jensen kept his hands pressed to his face. Misha's voice held no yield. This wasn't a "you did bad, but you're still a good person" tone. This was a "I'm pissed at you and you're an asshole" tone. He didn't want to look up. He was scared of what he'd see.

"Jen."

His head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds when he raised it. "Misha, pl--"

Every phone rang in that second. The wall mount above the counter, Jensen's cell, Misha's cell, the cordless. They enveloped the kitchen in a cacophony of sound. Misha grabbed his. "This isn't over."

"Yeah." Jensen grabbed the cordless, as answering it would also shut up the wall phone. "Jensen."  
"They found a body in the woods."

"What? Chad, if this is a joke--"

"I'm standing next to Captain Singer. He's calling your cell." Jensen checked. His captain's name appeared on the screen. It disappeared as he heard Chad say "I'm on with him."

"Do we know who...?"

"Get to the station now," Chad said. "See you in five." He clicked off. Jensen turned to Misha, who looked pale.

"I have to--"

"Yeah, that was the deputy looking for you. Go."

"We'll talk about this later?"

"Oh yeah." Misha looked grim. "We will."

With a sinking heart, Jensen fled.

 

##

Jared lay in bed. His thing had grown stiff from his touching it, and now Jensen and Misha were yelling at each other. Jared laid his paw against his side, away from his thing. Bad things always happened when he touched it. He was a smart dog. Jared learned things, and now he knew for sure. He shouldn't touch his thing. Maybe that was why he had to wear a diaper, it was to help him not touch it. Jensen must have been wrong about that. Jared should have known better. Jensen was clearly the beta in the relationship, and even though he was still higher up than Jared, who was only a dog, in the future Jared would know to always look to Misha for guidance. Whining a little as he couldn't keep his sorrow in, he climbed off the bed, picked up the diaper Jensen hadn't put on him in his teeth, and went to find him.

He found Misha instead, sitting at the kitchen table. He didn't seem to be doing anything. Maybe he was practicing his chair sitting, like he had Jared do every day. Jared nudged him.

"Oh, hey Jared. Do you need help with your diaper?" Misha gave him a big smile, but Jared recognized it wasn't happy. He whined again and put his head down to be patted. Misha scratched behind Jared's ears. Then Jared rolled over like a good dog and put his legs up to be diapered. He wouldn't make Misha chase him anymore. If having the diaper helped him be good, he would take it and not complain.

##

Jensen stared down at the bloody mess on the ground. He glanced at Chad, who had retreated to a tree a few yards away and was occupied with vomiting into a paper bag. Jensen had barely resisted the urge to do the same. "So," he looked at Bobby. "Where's the rest of him?"

"Here and there," his captain said. "Dogs are finding bits all over the damn woods." He gestured down at the head and torso. "This is just the biggest part." He squatted down and carefully rolled it to show a serrated cut along the neck. "Looks like our perp got bored trying to decapitate him." He eased the corpse back down. "Fuck." He raised his gloved hand to his forehead, but thought better of touching himself, and lowered it back down. 

"You recognize him?" Jensen asked.

Bobby thumbed at one of the rookie officers, who was shadowing a member of the canine unit. "Efron did. Name's Stalling. Works at the mine with his father. Christ." He stood up. "I know his old man. This is going to be hell on him."

"The mother died last year, didn't she?" Jensen asked.

"Yep." Bobby glanced down again. "Shit." He signaled for an evidence bag, peeled his gloves off into them and snapped on a fresh pair. "Plan on an all-nighter."

"Yes, sir," Jensen said. "Let me call Misha." He stepped to one side to do it. Misha sounded tense, and Jensen bit back the urge to apologize again. This wasn't the time. They could talk when he got home. He had a dead twenty-year old to deal with now, a murderer on the loose for the first time in three decades, and a crime so savage that it would send people into panic once the news broke. Jensen's stupidity with Jared could wait.  
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##

Misha shook as he ended the call with Jensen. Jensen hadn't given any details, but all nighters were rare, plus his voice sounded worn, like he was trying to control his tone. Maybe it was residue from what had happened earlier--he wasn't off the hook about that yet--but it might have been due to whatever situation he'd found when he'd arrived at the crime scene. Misha had stopped himself from asking for details. Jensen would tell him when he could.

Jared sat on the floor next to him, uncommonly quiet, wearing only his diaper. Misha was relieved he'd been so good about letting Misha put it on him, no trouble at all. As he regarded him, Jared snuffled a little against Misha's hand and settled only when Misha curled his fingers and stroked through Jared's hair. It was getting long, almost down to his shoulders, but it suited him. Softened his strong features.

Strange to think of Jared, this sweet, cuddly man-puppy as strong. Misha still hoped he'd be able to help Jared find that part of himself again, wherever it was hidden deep inside him. Jared yawned and Misha mentally kicked himself. It was well past Jared's bedtime. No wonder he was so quiet. Poor guy was probably struggling to keep his eyes open. Gently nudging Jared to stop leaning against his leg, Misha pushed the chair back and got up. "Bedtime, pal."

Jared blinked drowsily and crawled toward his bedroom. Misha walked alongside him. Inside, Jared sat on the floor while Misha went through the dresser. It was too cold for him to sleep in the diapered buff. His arms were like limp spaghetti as Misha put a T-shirt on him. He licked Misha's face when Misha bent close enough and Misha gave him a hug. "I'm sorry about the yelling today, Jared. I shouldn't have yelled at Jensen in front of you. I can tell you're sad, but you should know nothing that happened today is your fault. Do you understand?" Misha peered into Jared's eyes, looking for any sign of understanding, but a blank stare greeted him. Misha kept his sigh to himself and pulled the blanket back.

He thought about changing the sheets, a futile attempt to erase what he'd witnessed Jensen doing to... with... to Jared. He dismissed the idea. No use getting Jared more concerned, as he certainly would be if Misha started acting erratically. Instead, he watched as Jared levered himself onto the bed with his arms, and followed with his legs. Misha handed him his bear. Jared curled around it and clamped his mouth on its ear. Even though it was only a few weeks old, he'd already worn the fur off in that spot. In the early days, helping Jared get the synthetic fuzz off his tongue had been an exercise in futility that had resulted in nipped fingers (nothing to break the skin) more than once and water running down Jared's face and chest as he resolutely refused to "swish and spit" from the glass offered to him and instead chose to sit with his mouth open and let the water Misha or Jensen poured into his mouth dribble uselessly down his chin. 

Misha pulled the covers over him and bent down to kiss his forehead. He'd stopped thinking of it as unprofessional to do this. He'd almost stopped thinking of Jared as a patient, and this was dangerous. He knew this. Family members got too close, wanted too much to keep their incapacitated relative comfortable and happy instead of wanting someone capable of healing to actually heal. It would be so easy to let Jared continue like this. He was clearly happy being mindless, but that wasn't what he needed in life. He deserved so much better than what he had. Jared was already asleep, his face once again slack and free of tension. Looking at him, Misha almost felt jealous. Certainly a tenderness filled his heart in that moment, and he crept out of the room before he could examine it too deeply. He returned to the living room and picked up a case study he'd been reading on a child in England purportedly raised by wolves who had returned to society feral. 

He could fix Jared.

He could.

The clock ticked over to one before he dragged himself to bed. Jensen hadn't called since his initial notice. Misha struggled to think if he was still angry with him. He decided that he was. Jensen had molested Jared. Whatever the intent of his actions, that was what he'd done. They would need to talk about that and Misha would have to make it clear to him that Jared's well-being came first, which meant Jensen needed to stick to the proscribed training Misha and the other doctors had set out. He'd have to agree to that or... or...

Or Jensen could go.

Misha didn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind rose up to wave his memories at him, things he'd spent his adulthood trying to process, trying to forget. Jensen had helped him with that, even though Misha had never been able to fully express what he'd gone through and how it had impacted him. He still got flashbacks sometimes and couldn't be touched, but at the same time wanted to be held. He was like that now, sitting with his back against the headboard, knees tucked to his chest and blanket pulled up to his chin. 

Jensen came in around five o'clock. Misha listened to him walk down the hall, open Jared's door first. He swallowed down bile as he waited for that door to close and for Jensen to make his way to their bedroom. Jensen wouldn't be so stupid to do anything to Jared now. He was just checking on him, nothing more than that. Jared was diapered--Misha fought against thinking safely diapered, as if the thing they made Jared wear to protect their furniture also now protected Jared--so even if Jensen wanted to touch him again, he couldn't. But he might rub.... Misha's abuser, he'd rubbed sometimes and... Misha started to hum. It was a calming technique for when the flashbacks were too much. He got up. Put Jared first. Check on Jared.

He stepped into the hallway as Jensen left Jared's room. Jensen started. Misha tried to decide if it was from guilt or because he hadn't expected to see him. "Hey. He's sleeping. I thought he might need to pee--" Jensen stepped closer. 

"He's got his diaper for that." Misha stepped back. 

"Yeah, but he usually gets up around six, so I thought..." Jensen had specks of blood on his shirt. Misha stared at them. Jensen followed his gaze down. "It's not mine," Jensen said. He glanced up again. "Mish, are you okay?"

"I want you to go," Misha said. He hadn't expected to say that, but once the words were out, he knew they were right. This was what his night had been building up to. The culmination of his fear was to say those words.

Jensen's face fell. But instead of leaving, he said, "Oh fuck. You've had an episode, haven't you?" 

Misha stepped back when Jensen stepped forward. He felt like the string holding his emotions in check was about to snap.

"I didn't mean... What I did earlier, it's not the same," Jensen said.

Fuck it, a goddamned tear welled up in Misha's left eye. "How would you know?" He stepped back again and smacked the thing away with the back of his hand. This time, Jensen got the hint and stayed put. 

"You didn't want, I mean, you didn't know any better. You didn't know what was happening. He took advantage of..." Misha saw the moment Jensen caught on to the similarities between little Misha and Jared, the moment his pleading expression gave way to horror. He turned and braced himself on his forehead and elbows against the wall. For a few minutes, he mumbled at it. Misha tried to soothe the goosebumps on his skin and stop his mind from skipping around from one jagged memory to another. He sucked in ragged breaths.

"I swear to you," Jensen said, facing him, "I would never do anything to hurt you or Jared."

Misha stared at him. "That's what he said." He. Misha never said his name, and Jensen had learned not to either. Misha wasn't sure if he'd ever told Jensen who had molested him. He still couldn't overcome the urge to protect the person who should have loved him safely and unconditionally.

Jensen looked at the floor. Finally, he nodded. "My going, is that what you need right now?"

"It's what Jared and I need," Misha said. He thrust his chin up. "I don't feel safe with you here."

Jensen's face crumbled. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Please go."

"Promise me you'll call your therapist."

"Just go."

"Misha. I know the last thing you need right now is for me to tell you I won't go until you call." He put his hands up. "You've got the power here and I'm respecting your needs. Okay? I'm going. But please call."

"Fine." If he didn't, Jensen would call Dr. Morgan anyway. At least this way Misha could pretend he had a choice.

"Thank you. I'll be at Chad's, if you need me."

Misha didn't look at him. He stayed in the hallway listening as Jensen picked up his go bag from the mudroom, left the house, and pulled his car out of the driveway. It was another few minutes before he could make himself get to the phone and dial Dr. Morgan.

##

Jensen's quiet police station had turned into Grand Central Terminal with the discovery of a second body three days after the first and a third six days after that. It was too soon to determine a pattern, but Jensen got edgier the closer they got to day nine on the new count. They still hadn't found a hand from the last victim, a twenty-year-old boy they'd IDed off dental records because his face was too bashed in to be recognizable. Things had been so busy that Chad hadn't had time to look at porn on the company computer, a slight he complained about frequently. Jensen was starting to think about moving into the motel out on Route 4 past the McDonald's billboard if Misha didn't have a change of heart soon. As much as he loved Chad, a little bit of him went a long way.

He turned his back to Christian, who was dodging through the newly added temporary desks for the Feds with a stack of files and swearing up a storm at anyone in his way, and bent low so he was almost under his desk. Tucking his phone to his ear, Jensen sat through the four rings it took to get him to Misha's voicemail. Misha hadn't answered since the first time Jensen had called on the morning after his exile, and Misha had cut into Jensen's apology to say, "You touched him," and hang up on him. Jensen had waited a few days after that before trying again, but every attempt since had gone to voicemail.

"Hey Mish, it's me. I don't know if this is doing me any good telling you, but I'll do anything for you. Whatever you need. Just, please, let me in. If you want me to stay moved out, if you want me to never see Jared again, I'll do that. I'm not a bad guy. You have to know that." He paused to take a shaky breath. "Please tell me you know that. I'll cop to being stupid. Hell, I'll get it tattooed on my face, but I'm not... I'm not the monster you kicked out of our house. I'm not the guy you see in your nightmares. I listened to Chad. I don't know how many times you've said to me 'Ask yourself what Chad would do and then do the opposite,' and then I did it anyway. So, if that's not proof of stupidity, I don't know what is. Please let me come back. Please."

Jensen ended the call and squeezed his eyes shut. He sounded just like every other domestic violence asshat begging the missus for another chance. If he were someone else listening in, he wouldn't believe what he was spouting either. 

"Dude," Chad said from his adjoining desk, "they found the hand. Welling just came in with it. Two fingers missing."

Great." Jensen put his phone in his pocket. "Guess we'll be spending the next twelve hours looking for those."

"ME thinks they were bit off." Chad leaned in. "If you ask me, we're looking at a cannibal situation."

"I think you watch too much TV. In fact, I know you do."

"I'm just saying--"

"Try not to forget that we know these people," Jensen said. 

"I know." Chad wiped the excited glint out of his eyes. "But come on, man, how long have we waited for something to happen in this town?"

Jensen stared at him. "I wasn't waiting for this. Were you?"

"No. Come on, of course not."

"If I hadn't been living with you for two weeks, I'd start wondering about your alibi."

"Chill, dude. You know I'm a vegetarian."

Jensen thought of the veggie hot dog from Chad's refrigerator he'd accidentally eaten. "Don't remind me. Sorry. I'm just tense, that's all."

Chad offered a begrudging smile. "You're forgiven."  
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##

"HI! HI! HI! HI!" Jared rose up on his knees and wedged himself between Misha's legs, almost knocking him over. He pawed at Misha's pocket.

"Okay, Jared." Misha pulled his phone out of his pocket. They watched it vibrate together. Misha couldn't be sure if Jared could read Jensen's name on the screen or if he just liked the way it wiggled on Misha's palm, but the only time he got happy anymore was when someone called. He lost interest as soon as it stopped and went back to whatever he'd been doing. Or sometimes he'd crawl up on the couch with Misha, circle his huge body three times on the couch cushion and settle with his head in Misha's lap and nudge Misha's hand until Misha gave in and petted him. 

It made Misha feel guilty and it made him feel better. He let Jared comfort him when he should've been helping Jared. It had been hard without Jensen, but they'd made do. Jeff had helped him through the worst of it, counseled him through his flashbacks and nightmares. Now he couldn't blame his PTSD for his inability to sleep through the night. That, he blamed on the big empty spot on the other side of the bed. He missed Jensen, but he wasn't ready to listen to his fourteen voicemails yet, and he wasn't ready to have him home--especially if he didn't know what that would mean for Jared. 

He'd tried to keep Jared's routine. Three meals a day, chair-sitting before and during, helping him use his hands to eat (semi-successful), reading time and games to strengthen his mental agility and toilet time. Jared didn't fight his diaper anymore. If anything, this had made toilet time more difficult because usually he'd already emptied his bladder when Misha helped him onto it. The end result was that he'd sit obediently with his dick pointed (by Misha) toward the bowl until Misha accepted no pee would be forthcoming and let him up again. In those moments, Jared would be joyful again and bounce almost into the hallway before he'd turn around and slink back to Misha for a new diaper. 

Now he lay cuddled next to Misha on the couch dressed for bed in a T-shirt and sweats. And Misha wasn't thinking about how often he and Jensen had shared this same position and he wasn't missing Jensen. His eyes weren't stinging. 

And he wasn't a big ass self-liar. 

He got up and patted his leg. "Come on, bed time." Jared ambled off the couch. Toilet time, story time, and finally tuck in time. Misha left the door to Jared's room cracked open and went down the hall to his own empty bed. After an hour working on his notes for Jared's case--anymore he was fooling himself that he still thought anything would come of Jared's therapy--he turned the bedside lamp off and laid down.

##

Jensen was gone and Misha was sad. Jensen was gone and Jared was sad. Jensen needed to come back. Jared was a very smart dog, but even a dumb dog could have figured that out. Jared worked hard to make Misha happy again, but nothing he did would keep a smile on Misha's face. Jared had one last idea.

He crept out of bed and shouldered his bedroom door open. He stuck his head into the hall. All quiet from Misha and Jensen's room. He crawled in the opposite direction, toward the living room. And the front door. Every day, he used to watch Jensen leave for work. He put his paws on the doorknob. It was round like his thing and he remembered how Jensen had shown him to hold it. He curled his paws around it and turned. 

Nothing happened.

He tried again. Still nothing.

Lock. His brain supplied additional information in the form of a recalled conversation. 

Jen, did you lock the door?

On it, babe.

And then Jensen would twist a little knob higher up. Jared stretched his arm high, found it, and turned. It clicked.

Back to the knob. The door opened. Jared scooted backwards to let it swing in. He inhaled the dewy scent of the grass and went outside. Wait. Misha would worry if he woke up and Jared wasn't back. Jared romped over to the easy chair, where he'd hidden one of Jensen's socks and tugged it free of the seat cushion with his mouth. He dropped it in front of the door. Satisfied, he crossed the threshold. Toy. He returned again for his favorite toy. With it comfortably in his mouth, he made for the road in the direction he saw Jensen go every morning. He stuck to the grass alongside it, even though there weren't any cars on it. After awhile, his knees and paws got cold and his front paws hurt. He sat back on his haunches to lick them. He looked up at the moon, wondering how long he needed to go to find Jensen's police cruiser. It might take him until the sun was up, but he was sure he'd be back with Jensen before Misha made him breakfast. 

He started again and went on and on and on. The grass cut into his front paws. He blinked tears of pain out of his eyes. No giving up. His masters needed him to do this for them. They needed to be a family, all three of them. If jared had to bite Jensen on the ass and drag him back, he'd do it.

A light shone on him. Jared turned around to see headlights approaching in the far lane. He crouched down, prepared to hide. The car drove past. It was a police cruiser. Jared rose up. First to his knees and then to his back paws. He stood, wobbling, and yelled his greeting to Jensen. He flailed his front paws.

The car stopped and backed up. Jared staggered forward. He'd taken steps without help, but always with Misha or Jensen in front of him to catch him. Jensen would get out of this car and catch him, he'd-- That wasn't Jensen getting out. Jared stopped. A whine pitched high in his throat. The man stayed where he was, next to his car, one hand out, palm up.

"It's okay, Jared. I'm Christian. We met that day Jensen brought you into the police station. Still got your toy, eh?"

Jared took a cautious step forward. 

"I did your fingerprints, remember? Maybe you don't. Look, do you need a ride?" Jared hesitated. Christian opened the door into the back. "Come on. I'm on my way to see Jensen. I bet he'd love to see you."

Jared almost knocked him down diving into the backseat. There was a brown cloth bag on the floor. It took up almost all the space, but Jared didn't sit with his paws on the floor, so he didn't mind. "Good boy," Christian said. "Comfy?" The bag wriggled and made a noise that sounded like a shout, but Jared couldn't understand any words. Christian whacked it with his big black stick and it stopped. 

Jared barked at it. Maybe it was an animal and Jared could chase it. Christian closed the door. He got into the driver's seat. "Sorry there's not much room back there," Christian said. Jared barked again and pressed his nose against the grate separating him from Christian.

Christian glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Good boy, Jared. If he wakes up again, you let me know."

"HI," Jared barked. He sat back, attentive, to focus on his task. He was so focused that he didn't notice Christian driving past the police station, past the town line, and all the way out to a solitary three story cabin next to a pond. Christian pulled into the garage. Jared barked quizzically.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in this chapter for:
> 
> kidnapping, mutilation/amputation (OMC)
> 
> Jared is used to rape someone (OMC)
> 
> Christian is a bad, bad guy. (I don't need to say that the way Christian is portrayed here does not reflect on my views of him in real life, do I?)

"This is my house," Christian said. "You don't mind stopping here first? I need to do a few chores before I can go into work."

Jared didn't mind. He licked Christian's hand when Christian opened the door to let him know. Christian grinned at him. "Good." Jared climbed out of the car. Christian picked up the sack and flung it over his shoulder. Jared followed him into the house. The door closed. Christian busied himself with the bag over in a corner where he had a kennel set up. Jared watched to see if he would let the animal out of the bag, but he simply put it, bag and all, inside the kennel, and closed the door. He pulled a key out of his pocket and locked it.

"I'll just be a few minutes," Christian said.

Jared put his nose to the floorboards and began to explore.

 

The thing in bag was trying to get free. Jared abandoned his exploration of the cabin's walls to bound over to the crate. He tried to push his nose through the metal grating to get close enough for a sniff. When the bag rolled and hit the side where he'd positioned himself, Jared barked in warning and scuttled backwards. The bag was still for a moment, but then the flopping and shouting resumed, more violent than before.

Jared barked and barked and bounded around the crate, sniffing and snapping when bits of cloth pushed against the sides. The bag was coming loose at the top. Jared could see a human toe sticking out. He tried to nip at it. It was a person in the bag! Getting more excited by the second, Jared jumped on top of the crate.

For a second, nothing happened. Then Jared felt a wobbling beneath his paws. He crashed down, crate and all, and landed on the bag, with only the crate's roof between them. The bag groaned and went still. Jared dragged himself onto the floor and licked his paws. He barked angrily at the crate. He could hear breathing from the bag. Nosing the broken crate aside, he used his teeth to investigate by tugging on the bag. The person inside didn't move.

Jared was going to be in so much trouble! Christian had told him to watch, not to act like a puppy and get excited. Jared howled in misery. He scooted away from the scene of his shame. Maybe if he wasn't anywhere near it, Christian wouldn't blame him. He wedged himself between the couch and the wall and busied himself with his toy. He heard Christian returning not long after. Christian's first stop was at the crate. ("Shit.") Followed by a sharp breath as Christian picked the bag up and took it into a different room. Jared waited in misery for him to return, praying he wouldn't think Jared had been a bad dog.

"Jared?" Christian said. "Where are you? Come on."

Jared slunk out. He pushed his shoulders so low they almost dragged the floor. He kept his toy clamped in his mouth.

Christian said some words Jared didn't understand, but none of them were "bad" or "dog", so he risked looking up. Christian didn't seem angry. He crouched down in front of Jared and stroked his ears. Jared scooted closer for a good nuzzle. Christian held Jared's face and made him look. More words that meant nothing, but among them, _No Jensen_. Jared scooted backwards. _Jensen said 'bad dogs run away.'_

Jared barked. He tried to spin around, but Christian was still holding him. He hadn't run away! He'd been looking for Jensen!

"Hey. It's okay. You can stay here, all right, Jared?" Christian grabbed him and forced Jared to settle for a hug. Jared howled. Christian squeezed him tight. "I never had a dog like you before. You'll stay here." He leaned in and whispered into Jared's ear. "Be my good boy now."

Jared had been so stupid leaving as he did. Now Jensen and Misha didn't want him. At least he had a new master now who would take care of him, maybe even give him a collar. He tried to be happy, but his toy gave a mournful squeak. 

Between his journey to find Jensen, coming to Christian's home and now finding out that Jensen didn't want him and his sorrow after, Jared was worn out. Christian had left him alone and returned to the room where he'd dragged the squirming bag. Jared morosely pulled himself onto the couch and curled up. 

He woke to a hand tousling his fur on his head. His diaper felt cold and heavy. He must have peed in his sleep. "Hey," Christian said, "you must have been pretty tired, huh?" His tone was soft and friendly, and Jared turned to lick his hand. "I wanted to tell you I'm really happy you're going to be my dog now, Jared. I've wanted a dog for a long time."

Jared tried to be happy, but it was hard when his diaper was making him uncomfortable. He clambered off the couch and began pawing at his sweat pants. He whined up at Christian.

"You want your pants off?"

Jared whined louder and raised his pitch. 

Christian grinned. "I can help you with that. Come here." He scooted forward, and Jared crawled to meet him. Taking hold of Jared's waistband, Christian pulled Jared's sweats down. He stopped suddenly and the grin fell off his face. "The fuck is that?" He poked the diaper.

Jared pawed it, indicating with emphasis that he wanted it off.

"Oh Jared," Christian said. "They put you in a diaper?"

Jared hung his head, embarrassed. Christian was right. Jared was a grown dog. He shouldn't be in a diaper! Until Misha and Jensen had taken him home, he'd been toilet-trained and used the backyard at his uncle's house, like a good dog. He began to whine and back away in shame. 

"I bet you want that off, don't you?"

Jared licked the fingers that Christian stuck under his snout. "You want your shirt off too?"

Jared nuzzled Christian. He could be a dog again. Like Sadie. He sat obediently as Christian stripped him. "Whoah, big boy!" Christian said when the diaper fell away. Jared squirmed as Christian stared down at his thing. He remembered how Jensen had touched him and how nice it had felt, but also the bad things that had happened after. Christian didn't touch him though. He just pulled the diaper free of Jared's bottom and folded it up. "Wonder if you know what to do with that thing?" Christian said. Jared didn't know what he meant. Of course Jared knew about the rutting game and the holding and rubbing game that Jensen had taught him. What else was there? Despite his worries, it felt like his problems disappeared once Christian gathered up his clothes and the diaper and walked away with them. 

He came back a few minutes later with two dog bowls and a rolled mat. He put the bowls on top of the mat, all on the floor against the wall beside the upright crate--he must have fixed it while Jared slept. "Eat, boy."

Jared wandered over. It felt nice to be have his movement unrestricted again. He liked the air on his skin and the way his thing felt hanging down between his legs. One bowl was filled with water and the other had what looked like chopped beef and potatoes. Jared lapped tentatively, determined it was delicious, and went at it whole hog. 

"Wow," Christian said, chuckling. "Looks like Dinty Moore is a hit with you."

There was a crash from the other room. 

"Be right back."

Jared continued eating like he'd never eat again. 

Christian came back a few minutes later. "Now, Jared come here."

Jared licked the last of the bowl, took a few laps of water, and walked over to where Christian stood in front of the crate. It had a dog bed inside it now, a blanket, and Jared's toy. "Get in."

Jared backed away.

"I have to go to work and I can't have you wandering around the house unsupervised."

Jared whined.

"Jared. If you want to stay with me, you'll get in the crate."

Jared pawed the floor.

"Do you want me to put you under the bridge again? Maybe no one will find you this time." He crouched down. "I'm here to take care of you, Jared. I'll let you out as soon as I get home, but I need you to stay in the crate today. It doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Jared scooted forward. He didn't want to go to the bridge, and he did want Christian to take care of him. He licked Christian's hand in apology and crawled into the crate. It was big enough that he could turn around. He tramped over the bed and laid down when he found a comfortable spot. 

"Tell you what," Christian said, "I'll see if I can get off early today. I'll be home before you know it." He closed and locked the crate door. Jared watched as he gathered his coat and left the cabin. Then he turned his attention to the door where the person in the bag was. They hadn't made another peep, but Jared stayed on guard.

##

"Hold on." Jensen interrupted Chad to glance at his ringing phone. His throat tightened when he saw Misha's name on the screen. "It's Misha." He grinned at Chad, who put his hands up and backed away as he gave Jensen a thumbs up.

"Hey," Jensen said into the phone. Tenderness warred with desperation in his tone. "I'm glad you call--"

"Is Jared with you?" Misha cut him off, sounding sharp and angry. "Goddamit, Jensen, if you were going to take him, you could have asked. Or were you afraid of me saying 'no' to your face?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do. You. Have. Jared?"

"No. Why would I--" Jensen spluttered as the silence from Misha's end became ominous and the pieces clicked into place. "Jared is gone?"

"I... I thought it was you." Misha seemed less certain now. "He wasn't in his bed this morning and I looked everywhere and then I found... I found..."

"What? Mish, you're scaring me."

"The front door was open," Misha said quietly.

"Like someone broke in?"

"No. Unlocked. I know I locked it last night."

"Are you sure?"

"When have I ever forgotten?" Misha snapped.

"You've been under a lot of stress lately and--"

"Don't you fucking dare lecture me about stress."

"Sorry. Sorry." Jensen waved to an invisible Misha, calming him in imagination if not in reality. "Okay, so the door was unlocked and you thought it was me."

"Yeah."

"You thought that I came over and stole Jared."

Misha kept quiet. Jensen let him. Finally he said, "I don't know how to respond to that. He's not with me."

"Who else would have taken him?"

"Who else could have taken him? He's huge."

"He'll lick your face for a cookie, Jensen." Misha sounded stricken again. "He could have gone with anyone!"

"What if--" Jensen paused to consider a new thought. "What if he let himself out? He watches you lock and unlock that door every day. He might have picked it up."

"But why would he do that?"

"Misha. How have things been there?"

"Fine."

"Mish."

Silence.

"Misha, did Jared leave to find me?"

"You fucking bastard." Jensen could imagine Misha pushing the words through his teeth, red with anger, before the phone slammed down and he listened to his house phone's dial tone. He spun around and headed for the bullpen, weaved through the desks and headed for his chief.

"Jared's missing. I need a team to help me find him."

Chief Singer stared. "Ackles, we're on a manhunt for a killer and you want me to dedicate time and resources to find your ijit human dog?"

"There's a killer on the loose and my... Jared is out there alone and defenseless. So yes, sir, I want that."

"Shit. Sorry, son. Take Chad. He's not doing anything useful anyway."

"Thank you." Jensen sprinted away before he could change his mind. At his desk, he filled Chad in and grabbed the keys to the patrol car as Chad shoved the remainder of a bagel in his mouth and followed. As they passed the file room, which was near the exit, Christian stepped out and stopped them.

"We're in a rush," Jensen started, but Christian cut him off with a nod.

"I heard. Anything I can do?" He gestured to the files in his arms. "I'll be done here in a few minutes. I can help you look."

"Yeah. Thanks, man." Jensen squeezed his arm. "We're going to start at my house and branch out toward Chad's.

"I'll go the opposite direction and go between your house and the station."

"I really appreciate it."

Christian gave a strong, reassuring smile. "Brothers in arms, man. That's what we're for." He clapped Jensen on the shoulder with his free hand. Trying not to tear up from worry, Jensen raced out the door with Chad on his heels.

Misha stood in the doorway a few seconds before he stepped aside and waved Jensen in. If there was any anger in his eyes, it was masked by worry and sleeplessness. His hair stood on end, indicating a shower hadn't been in the calling either.

"You're alone," Misha said, still not looking at Jensen but at the empty air next to his hip, where Jared should be.

"Yeah," Jensen said, sharing the heart wrenching disappointment. "Christ, Mish," he couldn't help himself, "you look like shit. Did you sleep at all?"

Misha just glared.

"Come on." Jensen tried to take his elbow, but Misha shook him off. "You need to rest."

"Would you?" Misha snapped.

"Let me make you coffee at least."

"Fine." Misha's whole body slumped as he conceded. He followed Jensen into the kitchen and sat morosely at the table while Jensen puttered around at the counter trying not to make too much of a mess or say anything that would get him kicked out. Again.

"It's my fault," Misha said. Jensen froze at the unexpected confession.

"You couldn't have known." He turned to see Misha scrubbing his closed eyes with his palms.

"I've been so unhappy. He knew." He glanced at Jensen. "I didn't give him enough credit."

Jensen finished readying the percolator. "I'll find him. I promise."

"And you'll come back?"

He hadn't expected that. "Do you want me to?"

Misha's lip trembled as he nodded. "Missed you. So much."

"Misha." Jensen dropped to his knees along side him and buried his head in Misha's lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry."

Misha's hand landed warm and cautious on his back. "I believe you."

Jensen clung to him as hot, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. "Thank you." More than 'I love you' or 'I forgive you', this was what he'd needed to hear and for Misha to feel. This meant there was still a chance for both of them.

"Coffee's done," Misha said after a bit. Jensen got up, ducked his face away to sheepishly wipe his eyes, and turned towards the counter to do the pouring.

"You should take Sadie out with you," Misha said, dropping it almost casually into the non-existent conversation.

"That's a good idea." Jensen tried not to frown at the coffee. It was terrible.

Misha pulled a face but kept drinking. He caught Jensen's gaze and grinned. "Forgot how much your coffee sucks."

Jensen smiled back. "Sorry." He scooted closer and put his head on Misha's shoulder. "We'll find him. I promise."

"I know," Misha said. "Just hurry."

##

Jared pawed at the puddle slowly soaking into the blanket and spreading a dark stain over its fabric. He'd held off peeing as long as he could, but it was dark now and Christian still wasn't back. He didn't like being in the crate. He was hungry and he needed to stretch his legs. Now that he'd emptied his bladder, he felt a little better, but now he didn't have anywhere to lie down. Nosing the blanket into a corner, he curled up as far from it as he could get on the crate's criss-cross metal floor.

His stomach growled. Jared butted his head against the crate's wall. It wobbled. He hadn't meant to hit it so hard. In desperation, he hit it again, this time with his shoulder. He was being a very bad dog, but hunger made his thoughts unclear except for one thing: food. He could see the kitchen door. If he could just reach it...

The crate collapsed on him. He dropped onto his stomach along with it. Before he could whine, he noticed that he'd caused the two breaking sides to form a gap. Squeezing through it, he stopped to lick his paw and rub it over the scratches he'd acquired along his sides. He stretched up. His thing hung between his legs, feeling nice and free. It was nice without the diaper, even though he hadn't been able to control his bladder and had peed like a bad puppy. His stomach refocused him and he trotted to the kitchen. It had a swinging door that he could push open with his lowered head. Inside, to his dismay, Christian didn't have a dish set out for him. 

Jensen and Misha didn't have one either, but one of them was always around when he was hungry.

"Mmm."

Jared perked up at the noise. A naked man lay on top of a long metal table. Ropes and chains criss crossed him. Jared pulled himself up to his hind joints for a better look. The table had an upturned ridge and a trickle of red liquid had settled against it. The man blinked at him. He had a ball in his mouth. Maybe he was another dog and he and Christian and been playing fetch. Jared never liked to give his ball back either. This dog had a good hold on it. He wouldn't even spit it out to bark. 

"HI" Jared said. "HI HI HI."

The man twitched his hand, which was leashed down near his waist. He was missing a finger. The red trail started with a smear from that same area. Jared backed away, seeing this. He didn't want to be around naughty dogs. Feeling something soft under his feet, Jared spun around. It was the black bag. He glanced from it to the man. This was the man in the bag! Christian had told him to keep an eye on this man! Christian had said Jared was to tell him if the man did anything.

Jared frantically tried to decide if the man was doing anything that would merit raising an alarm. He began to bark. 

"Jared!"

Jared spun around, in the same moment panicking. Christian was home! Christian was standing in the doorway, staring at him. Did he look happy? He didn't look happy. He'd have seen the broken crate and smelled Jared's pee. He'd have heard Jared barking! Christian knew Jared was a bad dog. Instantly his bark turned into a pathetic whine and he charged for Christian's hand, seeking out a hint of comfort.

To his great relief, after a few endless moments, Christian cupped his palm and allowed Jared to nuzzle his snout against it. "So, you've found our friend," Christian said. "Well, I wasn't going to introduce the two of you, but since you've already met... Come on." He patted his leg, and Jared cautiously followed him back to the table. He didn't want to get too close for fear of the naughtiness rubbing off on him. Christian stroked the man's dark hair. "This is Michael. He'll be with us a few more days, then he'll be going away. But in the mean time, we're all three of us going to have some fun."

Michael shouted behind his ball.

"Shush," Christian said. "You should be glad Jared is here because I've thought of things I want the two of you to do together. It's because of him I'm keeping you around longer than I intended. Now, you be good and I'll only take one of your toes tonight." Michael thrashed, but he was bound too securely for it to even shake the sturdy table. 

Jared whined and pawed Christian's leg. When Christian ignored him, he whined again. He didn't understand what Christian was talking about, and his poor stomach wouldn't wait any longer. "Jared, don-- Oh, you're hungry." Christian patted him. "I'm sorry, boy. It's been a long day. Let me get you a bowl."

Jared followed Christian back and forth from the counter to the refrigerator and back until he got underfoot and Christian sent him to sit next to the wall. Jared sulked, but the smack Christian had delivered to his bottom hadn't hurt too much, and now he could smell the food Christian was preparing. It was another hearty stew. His mouth watered. When he put it down, Jared waited to be told he could eat. Unlike Jensen and Misha, Christian knew what he needed. Jared dove into the bowl and didn't raise his head until he'd lapped up every drop. 

Christian wiped his face clean. Jared nuzzled him again and licked Christian's face. Christian gave him a happy smile. "Living room, Jared. Got something special for you."

Jared happily pushed through the door again. In the living room, his happy thoughts of his reward stalled when he saw the broken crate. He wanted to hide, but he'd tried that before and Christian had found him. He hadn't been upset that time. Maybe he wouldn't this time either. Even so, Jared sat miserably beside the evidence of his misbehavior.

"Oh, fuck, ow!" Christian yelled from the kitchen. Soon he emerged, carrying Michael over his shoulder. His wrists were bound behind his back, and fresh blood dripped from what used to be his big left toe. Christian dropped him on the hard floor. Michael didn't move after he landed. Bending down, Christian arranged him on his stomach. He pushed the couch forward to reveal a hook in the floor. He looped a leash through Michael's collar and attached it to the hook. He wouldn't be able to raise his head more than a few inches. "Jared, come."

Jared stared from Michael to the crate. He wanted to obey, but he didn't deserve a reward. He pushed his nose down to the floor and whined.

"Oh, honey," Christian's voice softened. "Are you upset because of the mess? I should have come home sooner." He crouched down and wrapped Jared in a hug and rubbed his back. "I'm not angry at you. Tell you what, tomorrow it'll be just the three of us all day. I'll make it up to you. I can't have my best dog unhappy, can I?"

Jared perked up and relaxed enough to enjoy how Christian scratched his ears. 

"Good boy. Good boy," Christian said. "I've got an idea for that blanket you peed on." He fetched it from the crate. "Now come here." He led Jared over to Michael, who had woken up and was starting to struggle.

"How many toes do you want to lose tonight?" Christian asked, which stopped him. "Raise your hips." Michael lifted up. Christian shoved the wadded blanket beneath him. "That's better. Now, Jared, do you know what humping is?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You're going to hump Michael. Come on, now."

Jared didn't move. He looked at Christian blankly. Christian made thrusting motions with his hips. It didn't help Jared's understanding. Finally, with a loud sigh, Christian crouched next to Michael and spread his bottom apart. He pointed at the furled hole he'd exposed. "This," he said, "is an asshole. You," he pointed to Jared's thing, "are going to put your thing in Michael's little hole and push in and out." He leaned in close and Jared licked him.

"Criminy," Christian said. "I guess I have to show you. You know, I haven't shown animals how to breed since I lived on a ranch. For some creatures, it don't come natural." He grabbed hold of Jared's thing and began to stroke it. It was just like Jensen had done. Jared tried to back up. He barked to warn Christian that this wasn't a good thing. It was bad. Very very bad! Something terrible would happen and it would be Jared's fault because his thing was getting big with pleasure and he liked it, he didn't want it to stop, but it had to because bad bad bad... Finally, Christian let go. Jared panted. He stared down at his thing, which seemed even bigger than when Jensen had curled Jared's fingers around it and helped him stroke it. 

"Now," Christian steered him forward. "For people, you need a little lubrication, but Michael here is just a piece of shit, so a little spit should do." He leaned over and spit on Michael's asshole. "You've got some pre-come budding up there, so that will slick the way too. Let's get you lined up." Pulling Jared by his thing, he pushed it down and eased the tip inside. It was tight and hot, different from his hand in a way that hurt, but was exciting as well. Jared panted louder. He wanted to push all the way in, but Christian moved behind him, one hand on his stomach, the other on his thing, and guided his pace. Michael made a high pitch around his ball.

"Oh don't worry about condoms, Michael," Christian said. "Jared's clean. His last masters had him checked." He chuckled. "I really should thank them for that." At last Jared landed fully inside. He stayed there a moment, with Christian pressed up behind him and he felt Christian's thing in his policeman's uniform pressing against his bottom. He whined and tried to move away.

"It's okay, Jared. Now just move out a little." Christian pulled him back until only his tip was inside. It stretched out Michael's hole until it was almost white. He stared down at the streaks of red coating his thing. "That's just to ease the way. It's not your blood. Now push back in." They did this a few more times. Then Christian backed away. 

"Now, Jared. Hump him. Hump him fast. Show him you're his master." Jared stared at Christian, trying to understand how he could be anyone's master. Then the warm feeling in his lower parts became so much he couldn't bear it, and he thrust forward, giving himself over to the pleasure. He slammed his hips forward and back, panting and panting, sweating from the exertion and the sweet feeling. He was a good dog. Strong and bright and doing what a dog should do. Christian stood up and stroked his hair, but Jared shook him off, concentrating on the feeling of that tight little hole and of Michael squirming beneath him.

"There, you little piece of trash. Your master is a dog. You worthless piece of shit," Christian said, as he stroked Jared again. "Good boy, Jared. "So good." He stepped away, moving behind Jared. Jared didn't look where he went. His focus was solely on himself and Michael. Suddenly, his thing tightened and jerked and he emptied into that sweet hole. In the same moment, Michael's left leg thrust backwards, pulled straight, and he went limp. Jared collapsed on top of him. He licked the sweat off Michael's back. Something damp and warm touched his leg. He rolled away, afraid he'd stepped in pee. Instead, he saw blood, fresh and pooling, from Michael's leg. 

Michael had lost his foot! Jared had known he shouldn't use his thing like this. He'd known it! He turned to bark his warning to Christian that he should get back in case something happened to him as well, and found him grinning down with Michael's foot in one hand and a red knife in the other. 

"Go get in the bath, Jared," Christian said. "You were a very good boy today." He glanced at the foot and offered a shrug. "What? I said I wouldn't cut off any more toes if he was good, and I didn't." Chuckling, he wiped the knife clean and gently cuffed Jared around the ears. "Go on."

Jared sat in the bathtub as Christian washed him with the handheld shower head. He didn't understand what had happened, but clearly Michael was lower than Jared, and so he wasn't treated as well. Jared made note of that. If Christian gave him any toys, he wouldn't share them. Christian squeezed a rubber shark at him, and Jared snapped at it, forgetting his train of thought. By the time Christian had finished toweling him dry and led him back to the fixed up crate with a fresh blanket, Jared had almost forgotten about anything except how nice it was to have a safe place to sleep and a master who loved him. He missed Jensen and Misha, but if they didn't want him, the best thing he could do was move on. He laid down, resting his chin on his paws, and watched as Christian mopped up the floor. He'd already taken Michael away, probably back into the kitchen where he could lie on the hard table and think about how naughty he'd been. Jared's thing twitched. Yes, maybe Michael would think about Jared, too, just as Jared was thinking about Michael's hole and how he'd wanted to bite his shoulder. It had been so much more intense than the rutting game. Jared saw now that was a game for puppies. He was a master dog now, a master of Michael at least, and from now on, he would act like it and make Christian proud.

##

"I can come back in the morning if it's easier..." Jensen laced his hands together, leaning forward on the kitchen table that Misha had brought home from a yardsale ten years before. His arms made a cage around his half-empty coffee mug. Across the table, Misha sat slumped forward with his own mug. It was the same scene from the morning, except Misha had made the coffee this time and it was the dead of night. Misha hadn't put a shirt on to answer the door, and his thick brown hair stood up in haphazard tufts. The red mark he always got from sleeping on his hand hadn't faded, standing in stark contrast to the sleep-induced paleness of the rest of his face. Jensen bit his lip and stared down at his coffee, trying not to think of all the time he'd ravaged Misha just for looking like this.

All the times Misha had let him ravage him. 

"It's fine," Misha said, cutting off Jensen's train of thought. "Just, um, I'm not sure if--"

"You want me on the couch tonight?" Jensen guessed. That was the other thing--maybe with the initial panic of Jared's disappearance behind him, Misha's demeanor had reverted to caution. He acted like he'd forgotten their earlier conversation, the one where he'd forgiven Jensen. Not that Jensen could blame him. People said a lot of shit when they were upset, both good and bad.

Misha shrugged. "I'm not really ready for marriage therapy just yet but... I'm glad you're here."

Jensen looked up. "Me too."

It had been past one when he'd stumbled in, not wanting to go back to Chad's after making first contact with Misha earlier. The search for Jared had been fruitless, he'd stayed out to search alone hours after Christian had called it a night, though Chad had stayed with him, and to top it off, another search team found a fresh foot in the forest, so all resources were currently diverted in that direction. He'd hugged Misha as soon as he opened the door, so caught up in his relief to see him that he didn't realize until he felt Misha's arms around him exactly how long it had taken for Misha's arms to be around him. He'd felt awkward after that, and stepped away without pressing his nose against Misha's cheek like he always did, and then the middle of the night coffee, which was something they never did, and the not talking, which was something Misha never did, and now, apparently, the couch.

Jensen didn't care about any of that, though. He was home. He cared about being home.

"We'll find him," he said, fresh resolve in his voice.

"I trust you," Misha said.

Jensen looked at him.

"With police work," he clarified, and Jensen fell down a little inside, even though he'd figured Misha had meant it that way. He had a long way to go to earn his trust back over his stupid move with Jared, and he held no illusions that he'd be in the house now if Jared was still there. Despite that, all he wanted was to get Jared back.

"When we find him, I'll leave if you want me to. The important thing is getting him home."

Misha tightened his lips. "Can we not talk about this now?"

"Sure. I know I have to prove myself and--"

"Jen. Please. Not now."

"Okay." He carried his mug to the sink and poured it out. "We focus on Jared now and... and..." Suddenly he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. He choked it back. He couldn't break down, didn't deserve it when everything was his stupid fault. He'd been trying to help and fuck, couldn't do that right, could he? "I should have asked you first," he said when he found his voice again.

"Asked me?" Misha didn't give any indication that he'd noticed Jensen's break, but that didn't mean he hadn't. After almost 15 years together, Misha knew damn well that Jensen would rather crawl under a bush and hide than acknowledge his range of emotions extended beyond swarthy and battle ready. "If you should teach Jared how to jerk off?"

"Um." Well, when he put it that way...

"Well, you probably should have," Misha said. "Then this would be just another of your dumbass ideas and not blatant adult abuse."

"I'm sorry," Jensen said. He turned around from the sink. "Truly, pitifully, extremely sorry."

"You know," Misha said, "I'm starting to believe you." He got up with his own mug, but stayed at arm's length as he put it in the sink. "See you in the morning." He left without so much as brushing against Jensen, but Jensen felt better than he had in weeks. He rinsed Misha's cup as he replayed Misha's words. It was a start. A good start. Maybe there was hope for them after all, but he had the feeling it all hinged on him finding Jared because no way around it, Jared's leaving was his fault. 

If the situation was reversed, would he forgive Misha? As he settled on the couch fully dressed, he didn't have an answer. He struggled to get comfortable, finally getting up to look under the cushions where he found an arsenal of Jared's toys. He gathered them all up and put them on the coffee table. As he settled down again, his gaze fell on the door. He got up to check that it was locked. It was, but on the way back, he stepped on something soft. Looking down, he recognized his sock. He picked it up.

"Mish?" He knocked on the bedroom door.

"Wha?"

"Was Jared playing with my sock?"

"I guess. He might have been." Misha sat up on his elbows. "Why?"

"Well, it was over by the door. His other toys were all jammed into the couch. I think maybe he was trying to tell us something."

"Like that he was looking for you? Yeah, we already figured that out."

"Yeah." Jensen came in the room and started to pace. "But I've been looking at this wrong. I've been looking at places where Jared might be. What I need to do..." He stopped as the answer hit him. "Is look at places where I might be."

"Jen?" 

He slapped his hands together. "Gotta go. Thanks for the coffee!"

"Call me!" Misha yelled. Jensen shouted a response, shoved the sock in this pocket, and tore out of the house.

##

Jared woke to the sound of someone pounding on the door. He blinked and looked around until his eyes adjusted to the dark living room. Christian was in bed. Michael was in the kitchen. The pounding continued.

"HI. HI. HI. HI. HI." Jared pushed himself up to his paws and knees. His back scraped the top of the crate.

The pounding stopped. "Jared? Jared?!?" It started again, harder than before, and Jared raised his voice to match it.

_Jensen was out there!!_

Christian was wrong! His master did care for him. Jensen had come! Something warm streamed down Jared's legs. He paused his barking long enough to see that he'd wet himself in his excitement. 

There were two short, loud noises and the knocking stopped. A few seconds later Jensen shouted, "Chad!" another minute and the front door opened. A body fell inside the entryway. Jared strained to see from his cage, but before he could make out who it was, two more figures pushed forward. One was Jensen, the other, with his hand on Jensen's arm and a gun against Jensen's neck, was Christian.

Jared began to whine.

"Shut up, Jared!" Christian shouted. He kicked the crate as he walked by. Jared, being a very smart dog, shut up. He watched as Christian shoved Jensen to the floor, kept the gun cocked on him, and tossed him a pair of handcuffs. "Put those on. Behind your back."

Jensen obeyed. "Is Chad dead?"

"How did you even know to come here?" Christian asked. 

"Sadie," Jensen said. "She's a good little tracker. And Jared. He left a sock behind for us to find. Seriously, man, you shot Chad!"

"Woulda been you if I'd come on you first." Christian lowered the gun. He turned partway so he could look behind himself at Jared while keeping one eye on Jensen. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Jared. You're a good dog."

"He's not a--" Jensen started, but he cut himself off when Christian swung the gun up again. 

"Oh, he's a dog. A good dog, and he's mine now. In fact, I figure I'll keep you too. Jared's current plaything hasn't got much longer for this world."

"You've got someone here now?" Jensen asked.

"Part of someone." Christian chuckled. "All major organs intact and his asshole. That's all he needs."

"Christ, you're raping these boys too?" Jensen sounded sick. Jared rocked quietly. He'd pushed his piss-wet blanket off to the side and now knelt on the crate's metal grate floor. He didn't understand what was happening. His master--Jensen--was on his knees on the floor. He wasn't trying to get up, he wasn't trying to fight. But at the same time, he had kept his eyes squarely on Christian. Maybe his master was strong enough to dominate from the floor? Before Jared could let this idea settle, Christian swung his arm backward and clocked Jensen with the gun, sending him sprawling to the floor. 

"Not me," he said, "Jared." He straddled Jensen's knees and yanked his pants down. "He's going to show you the new trick I taught him."

"No." Jensen struggled, but the blow had damaged him. He was no match for Christian, who tugged Jensen's pants down to his ankles.

Jared blinked. A different scene appeared in front of him. Trees and fields and cats to chase. _He hated cats. Stupid cats._ Jensen floated into view, naked, hurt, and Jared followed the cats again. _"You're a good boy, Jared,"_ he heard his uncle say, and pat him and Jared floated away into his fantasy, just as he had when he was a little boy, just as he had until he hadn't needed the fantasy anymore because he was a dog. That little boy was gone, replaced by a puppy who everyone loved, who no one scolded, who no one hurt. 

Jensen shouted, and Jared jolted back to the scene in front of him. Christian was still on top of Jensen, shoving his face into the floor now, his knee shoved between Jensen's legs. Jared growled. He wasn't a puppy anymore. He was a dog.

And dogs protected their masters.

With a roar he broke the crate, bending Christian's reinforcements like nothing, shook the metal walls off his back, and launched himself forward. He landed on Christian's back, the two of them collapsing onto Jensen.

"Jared! Down!" Christian shouted.

Jared went down, but not in the way Christian intended. He sank his teeth into Christian's throat and tore. Blood shot into his mouth. He pulled away, gagging. Christian screamed. He slapped his hand to the wound. Blood spurted between his fingers. Jared, still on top of him, bit Christian's hand. He kept biting until Christian went still.

Jensen said, "Jared," real quiet, and Jared nosed Christian to the side and licked Jensen's cheek with his bloody tongue. "Jared," Jensen said again. "Off."

Jared got off. He sat on the floor. Jensen pulled himself to a kneeling position, felt around in his pockets, pulled out a set of keys, and uncuffed himself. Jared looked around at the mess he'd made. He'd be scolded for sure. Jensen got up, pulling his pants up too, and staggered over to him. He dropped down and pulled Jared into a hug.

"I promised I'd find you." Jared didn't move as Jensen wept on his shoulder. Jensen gripped him tight. Images of the scolding Jared imagined gave way to something far colder, far more terrifying as he stared at Christian's body. He'd killed someone. He knew it. He knew what death was, what murder was, and he'd done it. For Jensen.

"Juh. Juh."

Jensen pulled away and stared at him, his hands on Jared's shoulders.

"Jensen," Jared said. His throat gave the word up with reluctance, wanting to bark instead, but Jared forced it. Jared needed the connection of a name.

Jensen's eyes went wide. "Welcome back," he said, as if he knew how long Jared had been a dog, and Jared began to cry. He didn't want to be a man. He wanted to be a dog again, wanted to forget all this. He butted his head against Jared's shoulder and stayed there. Jensen stroked his hair.

"It's okay. We're going home now. Everything's okay. It's all over, Jared. I promise."

But Jared kept crying because it wasn't over.

It was only beginning. He remembered now. Who he was. What he was. Who he'd been.

Everything.

##

Jensen called Misha from the back of the ambulance. Three buses had responded to Jensen's call, which was as many as their little hospital had. The whole police force had come as well. Jensen brushed off the EMT trying to check him over and gestured for the guy to pay attention to Jared. Jared hadn't been able to stop crying, so Jensen had told Captain Singer to meet him at the hospital and pulled Jared into an ambulance. Jared laid down on a stretcher without objection. He refused to close his eyes, instead keeping his gaze locked on Jensen's face. He hadn't said a word since he'd uttered Jensen's name.

The other two ambulances sped past them on the empty road. One had Chad, the other had Christian's hostage. 

"No physical injuries from what I can tell," the EMT checking Jared said. "They'll get him cleaned up at the hospital, take samples and--"

"I know, I'm a cop," Jensen snapped. Then, seeing the EMT's tense jaw, forced his tone into civility. "Good. Thank you." Jared kept crying. Jensen squeezed his paw, hand, whatever. "It's okay, Jared. You're safe."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings in this chapter.

_Three weeks later_

Feet on the floor. Back straight. This was how a man sat. This was how Jared sat, perched on the edge of his bed in his white pajamas and white socks and white slippers staring at the white door with the little glass window that offered a view of a white wall and, once in a while, someone looking in on him. He had three therapists now, and games to ignore, and sitting to practice and, sometimes, standing. He could walk from one end of the room to the other, but he only did that when he was positive no one was looking.

_You're a man._

He repeated it to himself over and over, always silently because when he said it out loud, it made him cry. 

It took four men to haul him out from underneath the bed.

He looked out the little window and saw Jensen. The door opened. "Hey, Jared. How you doing?"

Jared worked his mouth and tongue until he could form the right shape. "Fine."

"...you do know what that word means, right?"

"Want to go home."

"We're working on it." Jensen laid a cautious hand on his shoulder. Jared fought the urge to lick his hand. "You need to stay here a little while longer."

"And get better." Jared echoed what the therapists said.

"Yeah." Jensen stood up and wandered over to the bookshelf. Jared wasn't allowed books since he'd almost knocked an aide out with a tattered copy of a thousand page tome, but he had magazines. "Want me to read you something?"

Jared nodded. He scooted over on the bed and Jensen sat down beside him. Jared sat stiffly until Jensen put his arm around him. Then he relaxed as Jensen read to him about football. Jared tried not to imagine chasing a ball. He probably wasn't supposed to be excited about that, but in the story, these men, these _normal_ men were. The whole thing was confusing. Where was the line between man and dog that Jared wasn't supposed to cross?

He zoned out until Jensen kissed his cheek. Even though he was a man now, Jared let Jensen gently push him onto the pillow and pull the covers up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

He stayed quiet as Jensen left. Then he stared at the ceiling. He wasn't going to get better, not in here anyway. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

##

Jensen cricked his neck as he sat up. Since finding Jared, Misha had let him move back in. Sure, he was banished to the couch, but at least he was in the house again. Sadie raised her head when he moved. She slumped down again and didn’t get up from her bed. Ever since Chad had died, she’d been living with them too. Jensen glanced at the clock, although he could have just looked outside to know it was the middle of the night. He hadn’t slept right ever since… everything.

“Hey,” Misha said. He hadn’t slept right either.

“Don’t suppose you’ll let me come to bed?”

Misha sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Jared’s worse. Sometimes I wish he’d go back to being a dog.” Sadie walked over. Misha scratched her ears. Jensen looked away and tried to ignore the pang in his chest. “Think it was easier for him that way. Whatever this situation dug up for him, I don’t think it’s doing him any good.”

“I’ll find out.” Jensen looked up, surprised at his own words.

“We need to bring him home,” Misha said. “The problem is, I don’t know as what. It’s not right for him to be our pet and yet—"

“And yet we’re not equipped to handle someone who is one leap short of Insanity Cliff when he tries to act like a human?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to go talk to his uncle again. See if I can get some more answers.”

“You’re on leave,” Misha reminded him. “You can’t go flash a badge you don’t have.”

“Flashing is for creeps on the train,” Jensen said. He reached for his pants. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“Jensen. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Jensen blinked. “When have I ever?” He high-tailed it out the door before Misha could begin his litany of responses.

##

In the hospital, Jensen sat in Dr. Morgan’s office with Misha beside him. They were both carefully avoiding staring at the new bandage on his hand. Likewise, their gazes focused on his left eye, not his rapidly blackening right. “Jared’s uncle is a scum bag,” Jensen said. “He was too lazy to take care of a kid, so he fed Jared some crap about his parents’ death being Jared’s fault, then trained him up to be a puppy because ‘puppies don’t have to think.’” He almost spat as he repeated the confession Uncle Stu had delivered up on the ends of Jensen’s fists.

“The whole thing was an amateur psychology experiment twisted up and never stopped. No one ever stopped it.” Jensen squeezed the chair’s arm with his good hand. “No matter how many people saw Jared, they all bought the story that he was just playing, and when he was older, they accepted he was brain damaged. Stu sold it to them and they bought it—" He flinched when Misha touched him. It was the first tenderness Misha had shown him in ages, and he hadn’t expected it.

“This is all useful information,” Jeffrey said. “It will help.”

“He should be arrested,” Misha said.

“Not with the way I got him to talk. It’ll never stand. I should have killed him.”

“Jen—“ Misha tried touching him again. Jensen let him and forced his shoulder to relax.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Jeffrey Dean said.

“Jensen and I want to bring Jared home,” Misha said. “We think he might do better in a family environment, and we’ve got Sadie now too, so that’s more familiarity for him.

“I want to talk to his care team,” Jeffrey said. “If they agree, you can bring him home tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

In the hallway, Misha steered Jensen into an empty alcove. “If he comes home, we can’t have any mixed signals. He bathes himself from now on.”

“He doesn’t know how,” Jensen said.

“He takes his own showers here. He just needs someone to adjust the water for him and tell him how long to stay in.”

“All right. Agreed.”

“And you’d better come back to sleeping in our room.”

“You afraid it’ll send him the wrong signals if I’m on the couch?”

There was no happiness in Misha’s smile. “I miss you. I’m tired of being angry at you. I know you’re sorry—“

“I was stupid. I should have left the psychology to you.”

Misha gently kissed his cheek. “Remember that.”

##

Jared vibrated with excitement. He pressed his nose to the window forgetting, briefly, that he wasn’t a dog anymore. When he remembered, his depression lasted only as long as it took him to catch a glimpse of Jensen in the driver’s seat and Misha beside him. He remembered his first ride with Jensen, in the back of his police cruiser with Sadie beside him, how he’d been scared and confused.

Now he was going home. Misha and Jensen had said so. _”So, Jared, how’d you feel about coming home with us? Sadie’s there now until Chad gets better, and your room.”_ Jared had been so happy he’d wet himself. Now, cleaned up and with a fresh pair of briefs on under his sweats—diapers were night time accoutrement now—he gazed adoringly at his ~~masters~~ Jensen and Misha as they sped toward home.

They stood on either side of him, ready to catch his elbow if he wobbled on the short walk into the house. Misha talked the whole time, asking Jared what he wanted for dinner and about cooking, talking so fast Jared couldn’t process it all, but he didn’t care because it was just so wonderful to hear Misha’s voice, and to see Jensen smiling at both of them. He stopped at the kitchen door. “H-home.”

“Yeah, home,” Misha repeated, sounding proud and eager. Jensen simply stood there, stiff all of a sudden, but beaming at Jared nonetheless.

“Well, uh, let’s go in.” Jensen broke the emotional silence. “Someone here wanting to see you.”

Jared saw Sadie, and that’s when it all went to hell. As he stood, looking down, he realized that he had never in his life looked at Sadie from this angle, so far above. Sadie seemed confused as well. She backed away, came forward again, and backed away. Jared wanted to get on the floor with her, but that wasn’t what men did. They stood. “I I I I I…” Jared started to struggle, but no one was holding him; there was no one to struggle against. Sadie started to bark. Jared howled in anguish. He distantly heard Jensen shouting, his voice rough and desperate. Then Misha pushed past, pulling Jensen with him and they both sat on their asses on the floor.

“Jared. Jared. Jared.” Misha kept his voice steady, calm, and it broke through to Jared. “People sit down to play with their pets. You can sit and be a person.”

“Sit?” Jared asked.

“Sit,” Misha agreed. “If you want to,” he added, so it didn’t sound as much like a command.

Still cautious, Jared lowered himself to the floor. He sat a few feet away from them, with Sadie circling in the middle.

“Why don’t you call her?” Misha said.

“Sa?” Jared said. “Sadie?”

Sadie turned. This time she came close and sniffed him. Then she leapt into his lap, squirming and yowling in high pitches. Jared had to cover his ears. She licked his mouth and he hugged her. He pressed his face into her fur and wept happy tears. When he looked up again, Jensen and Misha were sprawled against the cabinets holding hands.

“Welcome home,” Misha said.

“When do we eat?” asked Jensen.

Jared wiped his eyes and grinned at them.

##

The "honeymoon", for lack of a better word, didn't last very long. In the middle of the night, Misha jolted awake from a dead sleep to find Jensen already out of bed and stumbling toward the sound of Jared's screams. Sadie had opted to sleep with him and she was up already, trying to lick his face. Misha flipped the light on in Jared's room as Jensen tried to put his arms around him and soothe him.

"Mom," Jared sobbed.

"It's not your fault," Jensen said. "Whatever you're thinking, Jared. It's not your fault."

Misha got around to his other side and they held him between them. "Jensen's right. I know what you're going through is scary right now, but we're here for you. Okay? We're not going to leave you, no matter what."

He calmed down after that and everyone went back to bed.

As Jensen climbed into his side, he said, "I think we're making a mistake. I think he should go back to being a dog."

"Because it's easier?" Misha snapped.

Jensen didn't rise to his ire. "Because he was happy." He rolled over to his side, presenting his back to Misha. Misha laid down beside him and all night long thought about what Jensen had said. In the morning, he'd made a decision.

"We give it three months and if it seems like he's not getting any better, then we'll explore other options." He hoped Jensen wouldn't ask him for details because as of now, he didn't have any.

"Three months," Jensen repeated. "Okay."

##

Jensen watched helplessly as Jared lay on the floor sobbing. Every time his wails calmed and it seemed safe to approach, he worked up a new burst of energy. Sadie tried to nose against his face, but he kept shoving her away. Jensen's cheek still smarted from the smack Jared had laid on him, and Misha had fingernail marks on his forearms.

Jensen didn't even know what had set him off this time. In the month since they'd decided to give Jared time to decide if he wanted to be a man or dog, up was down and right was left. Jared took most of his aggression out on poor, sweet Sadie. On his hands and knees, he yelled "GO AWAY" as loud as he could. Standing upright, he barked, snapped, and growled. Sadie hadn't snapped back at him yet, but Jensen wasn't sure how long she'd hold out. 

Jensen turned a helpless glance at Misha, who was massaging his temples. Jared's face was so red, he looked like he might pass out. Desperate, Jensen opened the freezer, took the lid off the ice cream, and dropped the carton on front of Jared. He stopped wailing and stared up at Jensen.

"You can have ice cream if we can talk," Jensen said. "Okay?" The "talk" was supposed to come after three months. He and Misha had decided it, but they hadn't factored in all of this. 

"HI," Jared said. Then, frowning, "Yes."

"Do you want a spoon?"

Jared's chin wobbled. 

"Here." Misha moved to the cabinet and pulled down the ice cream cones. "I'll put it in a cone for you." Jared looked appeased. Dogs and humans could lick from a cone. Misha clambered down to the floor with him, made the cone, and held it out for Jared to take or lick.

He licked. Jensen sat down too and made his own cone. Teasing, he held it to Misha, who grinned and swiped his tongue over it. Sadie whined. Jensen passed it in her direction too. 

The ice cream seemed to calm Jared. With a glance at Misha to make sure they were still on the same page, Jensen said, "Jared, Misha and I can see how difficult this is for you. We both think you're being very brave."

"Brave?" Jared said. He had improved enough that his language was no longer just parroting. 

"We know you're trying very hard to be a man."

Jared didn't say anything, but he looked unhappy.

"Jared, Jensen and I love you very much. We want you to know that. You always have a home here with us," Misha said.

"You sent him away." He pointed at Jensen. 

"That's different," Jensen said. "I did something that could have hurt you."

Jared looked silently at Jensen's cheek and Misha's arms. 

"You didn't know what you were doing," Jensen said. "We're here to take care of you, so don't worry about us kicking you out, OK? Is that something you've worried about?" Jared shrugged. He looked miserable. Jensen put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "If you do something you shouldn't, we'll talk about it. OK?"

"OK."

"Were you scared about that?" Misha asked. 

Jared nodded.

"Don't be scared."

"OK."

"There's something else we want to talk to you about. And that's about your decision to be a man or a dog."

Tears started anew in Jared's eyes. "I don't know," he mumbled.

Misha set the cone down on the ice cream carton. "Jensen and I have been talking because it breaks our hearts to see you so upset and confused. We think that you're trying to please us, but when you act like a man, you have to deal with things that are hard for you. On the other hand, when you act like a dog, you might feel a little guilty for not dealing with those things, and that's why you're getting upset a lot. Do you think that's why?"

Jared whimpered. "I want to be good."

"You are good," Misha said.

"So good," Jensen echoed as he rubbed Jared's back. "Which is why Misha and I have a new idea."

"No more picking," Misha said. "If you need to be a dog, then you can be a dog. If you want to be a man, then you can be a man. Starting right now. You have your clothes in your room. If you want to be a man, you put on your jeans and a shirt. If you want to be a dog, put on your sweatpants."

"I can't be naked?" Jared asked.

"You can sleep naked," Misha said. "But around the house, you need clothes on." Jensen and Misha had discussed the rules they'd set down for Jared. Misha was firm on the pants rule, and Jensen, still walking on eggshells, wouldn't go against him, no matter how big Jared's brown eyes got. 

"And if you're a dog, you need to either wear your diaper or use the toilet. We live too close to neighbors for you to pee in the yard," Jensen said.

"No diaper," Jared said.

"If you use the toilet."

He considered it. Hated diaper vs. toileting. "OK. Do I get a collar?"

Jensen looked at Misha. They hadn't considered that.

"I want a collar," Jared said urgency. "With both your names on it."

"Done," Misha said. "And our address, in case you get lost."

"Won't get lost," Jared said.

"And if you want to talk while you're a dog, you can," Jensen said.

Jared shook his head. "Just want to be a dog. No worries. You take care of me."

"Of course."

"And we'll go on walkies!"

"Uhh..." Jensen wracked his brain. "I guess we could go out to the forest trails. But you absolutely have to be dressed for walkies. With shoes."

"OK," Jared said. He fingered the button on his jeans that Misha had closed for him that morning. "Starting now?"

"As soon as you want," Jensen said. 

"Button?"

Misha undid it for him. "Remember, you can be what you want any ti--"

Jared bolted from the floor and out the room.

"Did we do the right thing?" Misha asked. 

"I guess we'll find out." They got up and put the ice cream away, wiped the melted spill from the floor. A few moments later, Jared, shirtless and in his sweatpants, skidded on his knees into the kitchen, barreling into their thighs. 

"HI HI HI HI HI HI HI." He licked and slobbered on their hands, then turned around to charge at Sadie, who greeted him with joy. Jared thundered toward the living room, Sadie close behind.

"Looks right so far," Jensen said. He smiled when Misha kissed his cheek and turned so he could kiss Misha's lips. "Come on, let's go keep an eye on them before they wreck the house."

The End


End file.
